Interludes and Vignettes
by Cloud Zen
Summary: A Collection of Drabble and One-shot ideas jointly explored and composed by Cloud Zen and Pax Humana
1. Hermione's Hidden Facets

_**This collection will host drabbles and oneshots that do not fit my other Harry Potter "I have an Idea, Harry" theme as well as those composed by Pax Humana (FFN ID: 3054606) and myself, Cloud Zen (FFN ID: 894440), from ideas that we both decide to explore.**_

_**In this first case, I happened across a decade old song serving as background music while reading a piece of Harry/Hermione fan fiction, Lucky Harry by Pyrgus. The combination of the two, and the fact that "me" and "Hermione" rhyme, made me wonder about what an Out-Of-Character version of Hermione that might fit the song title would be like.**_

_**Between the two of us, we composed multiple drabbles. After much thought, only the following ones were deemed safe to post on FFN given the current environment after the June 2012 incident where countless stories were removed for explicit heterosexual content.**_

* * *

Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy (Hermio)ne

By: Cloud Zen

If Harry were to be completely frank with himself, he was not surprised that Hermione chose to continue her education after the war. After finishing her last year at Hogwarts and earning her NEWTs, Hermione had returned to the muggle world and enrolled in Cambridge, much to the protest of one Ron Weasley.

The two were no longer speaking, much less dating, as a result.

Harry had followed her in an attempt to get away from the Wizarding World and his near deity status among the sheep. It had taken a lot of work but Harry had managed to get himself enrolled along with Hermione. After so long together at Hogwarts and living in the tent during the War, Harry found it a foregone conclusion that the two would simply share a flat.

Eight years of being friends did not prepare Harry for the new facet of Hermione's personality that muggle university revealed.

"Hermione, are you trying to give everyone on campus a heart attack?" Harry tried to bite his tongue but utterly failed when she walked out of her bedroom in _that_ skirt.

Free of the extremely conservative Wizarding World, Hermione had flourished. Harry knew that would happen but simply expected it to be in ways other than her sexuality. The skirt she was wearing meant even the slightest of bending over would let everyone know whether or not she was wearing anything underneath.

A sultry smirk was his only answer while she collected her texts for class.

"Maybe I am. Either way, don't you think the professors are awfully nice when I take the time to dress up?"

Harry snorted. He typically thought of her dressing up involving a nice dress, dinner at a fancy restaurant, and a ballet, opera, or some theater production. A skirt that barely classified as a belt and a top that her ample cleavage nearly spilled from with every step was not that.

"Oh they're nicer alright."

Before he could continue, Hermione stalked towards him. She stopped just shy of pressing her bust into him, giving Harry a very clear view down the front of her blouse revealing that she was obviously not wearing a bra. Harry audibly gulped as she leaned forward, letting her lips almost meet his. Harry's eyes were drawn to her lips and even the subtle grazing of her fingers on the hem of his slacks failed to distract him.

Quickly pulling back a beaming smile broke out on Hermione's face. "See? Even you can tell. Now hurry up or we'll be late for class."

Shaking his head in exasperation, Harry grabbed his notes for class and could not help but whistle as he followed Hermione's hypnotically swaying hips out the door.

With a grin, he whispered a final thought as he locked the door to their one bedroom flat. Pocketing his key, Harry felt the gold band on his left ring finger.

"She's always so worked up when I let her go out like this. I'm getting so lucky tonight!"

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Punishment

By: Cloud Zen

Harry almost dreaded going to bed. He knew what was coming. He and Hermione would walk their rounds as Head Boy and Head Girl, return to the common room, and after saying good night, she would give him _that look_.

And when they entered the Gryffindor common room, she gave it to him.

Oh, how he hated that look.

Oh, how he loved that look.

Inevitably, Harry would find himself unable to sleep after experiencing it. His mind would race and even the coldest of showers proved unable to alleviate the resultant situation.

It was punishment and he knew it. Whenever Harry fell behind on his book work, based on Hermione's strict standards, she would give him that look, knowing exactly what it would do to him, the way it would make his heart race and fuel his imagination. It promised so much that he knew she would deny coming his way.

There was only a single saving grace about that look.

Harry emerged from his private bath to the sight of a naked Hermione, panting, eyes filled with lust, waiting for him on his bed.

"You know how worked up you get whenever you try this," he said.

Hermione pounced.

Some time later, Harry held a sweaty, still naked, very sated, dozing Hermione to his chest. With a quick charm to check the time when she entered his room, Harry had to suppress a chuckle for fear of waking her.

"You managed to hold off for three hours tonight. That's better than normal."

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Games and Rewards

By: Pax Humana

She was doing it again.

He knew she was.

He was determined not to let it get to him. It was hard- no, _difficult_, to keep his mind off it, though. The way she would lean forward as she sat next to him on the couch, subtly drawing attention to her chest. The way she would accidentally brush against him when it was his turn to ruin his concentration.

And the way she would laugh after he lost, that sound and the sight wrecking any chance he had of really protesting her cheating.

Hermione had always been such a stickler for the rules at Hogwarts. Well, that wasn't exactly true. There was the troll incident where she lied to the staff including both her own Head of House and the Headmaster to protect the boys who came to rescue her. And the time she tied up poor Neville at the end of that school year was hardly fitting that image either. Nor was her punching Malfoy, or tearing a page out of a _library book_! And she told off that phoney of a Divination teacher, too. In fact, now that he thought about it, she wasn't really good at obeying the rules after all.

She was good about not getting punished, however. Such a naughty teasing bitch she could be.

Just as she was sure would be the case tonight, he knew.

While he was distracted, not brooding, no, distracted, he had lost. Again.

Hermione turned to him, that bouncing on her chest drawing his eyes like it always did. "Are you ready for the next round, dear?" She was grinning at him.

"Just a minute. Someone stole my drink."

She just laughed. "Get me one too while you're up."

Harry just nodded, getting Hermione's hot chocolate and his own butterbeer. By the time he got back only a minute later, Hermione had sprawled over his seat, her shirt, his really, hanging loose and exposing a little more of her cleavage. It was artistic, beautiful, mouth-watering. He hastily gulped a third of his drink.

Her knowing smile pierced him as he handed over her sinfully rich hot chocolate. She moaned as she drank it, opening her eyes. "Thank you, Harry. That was just what I needed."

When it was her turn, Hermione was as focused as a laser beam, Long ago, he had tried to distract her to no avail. The one time he had managed it, she turned on him with such a look he never tried again.

So instead, he relaxed, holding her with one arm as he watched her while she played.

Then, his turn. He hit start and not ten seconds in, his sexy, innocent wife stretched. _Stretched!_ And when he finally turned his eyes back to the game and got back on track, she leaned in and snuggled against him. Normally, Harry was all for that but in his hyper aware state, the way she let the shirt fall open and dragged her breasts along his upper arm was maddening.

"Oh, that's a shame." Hermione whispered in his ear, her breath caressing him.

On the screen, despite himself, Harry had drifted off into the bushes. Then Hermione said in a seductive tone, "Oh, I'm sorry, baby. Here, let me make it up to you."

She leaned in, kissing him on the cheek right near the ear, her body brushing against him more and Harry closed his eyes, trying not to ravish his wife right there on the living room couch.

He opened them ten seconds later, completely expecting the big Game Over that was flashing on the screen.

"You, Hermione Potter, are a cheater." Despite his best intentions, there was no heat in the accusation.

Hermione's musical laughter sealed it. "Of course, Harry." She leaned in, getting her congratulatory kiss. "And it's still your turn to do the washing up."

Harry grumbled and turned away. Her voice froze him in his tracks.

"Don't take too long, dear. I might just have to start without you."

That dire threat saw Harry whip out the Elder Wand, casting a quick spell setting the dishes to wash themselves and he chased after his laughing wife.

Twenty years they'd known each other and he owed every minute of his present happiness to his lovely wife. Besides, he knew that she would make sure he enjoyed losing to her just as much as she enjoyed winning their little bets.

It was why he let her win, after all.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Sexy, Naughty (Hermio)ne

By: Pax Humana

It had been ten years since Harry James Potter had first seen Hermione in That Dress at the Yule Ball at Hogwarts. Ten years since he had been inspired to become worthy of the witch who wore it. It had been five years since he had, Merlin knows how, convinced her he had succeeded.

But every time she looked at him that way, he knew he had made the right choice. Ron would never have made her happy and that would have been unforgivable.

Further thought left his head as his sexy, naughty Hermione stalked towards him like a predator, her clothes dropped in a line on the floor and pulled him up out of his chair where he had watched her strip tease. The kiss she gave him promptly restarted his brain and he did his best to give her every ounce of passion he possessed.

She moaned then pushed him onto the bed, smiling like the cat that got the cream as she prepared to give her husband his true birthday present. Though if she had her way with him, and she would, he'd give her something for her troubles, too.

"Stop thinking, Harry. Don't worry about anything else tonight. You. Are. Mine, Mr Potter."

Harry's hands were already busy as he groaned in her ear. "Yes, Mrs Potter."

* * *

_**As stated above, THIS COLLECTION WILL NOT BE SOLELY MY WORK. It will also include Harry Potter drabbles and one-shots composed by Pax Humana (and potentially others) from prompts that we **__**jointly**_ _**choose to explore. Consolidating this to a single collection for the both of us simply made more sense and we decided I would be the one to manage it.**_

_**If you enjoyed either, please review, and consider following either or both of us.**_


	2. Hermione's Knickers

_**You can blame all of this on a YouTube video of the 2013 Victoria's Secret Fashion Show.**_

* * *

Knickers in Strange Places  
By: Cloud Zen

"Silly girl getting in the way."

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Harry awoke with a loud groan and a long stretch. With his arms raised far above his head he felt his body creak and pop. Getting hit by the barbed tail of the Hungarian Horntail the week before, on top of his other accidents with Quidditch, fighting a basilisk, running for his life from Acromantula, jumping on a troll's back, and years of Harry Hunting had made his body far older than it had any right to be.

Finally, he reached for his glasses only to find them covered with a soft bit of cloth. Removing said cloth and donning his glasses, Harry realized what was covering them with a pronounced blush. Quickly checking to ensure his other dormmates were still asleep, Harry shoved the silky pair of knickers into the bottom of his trunk.

Ever since his name had come out of the Goblet, Harry had been waking up to find a pair of knickers either in his hands, covering his glasses, on top of the contents of his trunk, under his pillow, or some other place he would inevitably find them.

Just yesterday, he had woken only to find them on his face!

After a few days, the knickers would vanish from the bottom of his trunk. He had no idea where they came from, or whose they might be, but he couldn't help but admit he hoped he found out. Whatever girl wore such things had to be a looker.

With a shower and other necessities, Harry descended the stairs. Ron would be asleep for a bit longer but Hermione should be down soon and the two could go to breakfast together.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

"Silly boy still has no idea."

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Harry waited a few minutes longer for Hermione. When she came down the stairs, she seemed quite irritable.

"Something wrong?"

Hermione's cheeks turned a bit pink before she answered. "Nothing you need to worry about, Harry."

Harry waited until they were out the portrait hole before trying again. "Come on, what's bothering you? You helped me the last month to get ready for the first task, there has to be something I can do for you."

Shaking her head, Hermione insisted. "Helping you with that was just what a friend should do. You got forced into this mess and needed help. Besides, this isn't something I think you can help with."

Taking that as a challenge, Harry persisted. "But that's what I'm trying to be, a good friend. Just tell me what the problem is. Even if I can't help, telling me might make things easier for you."

Hermione actually snorted in reply.

"I know you can't help me out. This isn't that kind of problem."

Harry looked triumphant. "So there is a problem! What is it?"

Growing frustrated, Hermione finally relented. Perhaps embarrassing Harry would get him to back off.

"I woke up, and the knickers I put on last night to sleep in were gone. Right off my body. Plus several of my other pairs have gone missing. I seem to get them back after a week, but normally laundry is done in a day or two, not a week. None of the other girls are missing anything. Just me."

Harry immediately turned bright red and stopped walking.

Feeling a sense of satisfaction, Hermione turned to tell him off for prying. She wouldn't normally but the situation was intensely personal and embarrassing for her.

"Um."

That stopped Hermione in her tracks. Harry almost sounded guilty.

"Please don't be angry."

Hermione was about to throttle Harry. There was only one reason she could think of he would be saying that after her confessing her situation.

"I wasn't sure who to talk to, but I keep finding girls knickers in my stuff when I wake up. I swear I don't steal it or anything, I just keep finding it. I have since my name came out of the Goblet."

Remembering the issue with the Firebolt, Hermione restrained herself and counted to five. Then she counted to ten. Finally she just counted to fifty.

Harry was incredibly nervous when Hermione remained silent for over a minute. It was even worse when she opened her mouth to talk.

"So you absolutely did not do anything perverted and stole a girl's knickers?" Fierce shaking of his head was her answer. "And what did this morning's pair look like?"

Harry squeaked out a response. "It was this really pretty pink pair that felt kind of silky."

It was Hermione's turn to blush furiously. Harry had seen her favourite pair. They happened to be especially comfortable but also made her feel very pretty, like a boy might actually want to see her in them.

"And what did you think when you saw them?" she said evenly, attempting to hide her embarrassment.

Harry was surprisingly frank with his response. "The same thing as with every pair. They were pretty racy and I bet whoever owned them would look sexy in them."

Seconds ticked by. Harry's fear once again grew. Hermione was at least as good with a wand as he had become thanks to the tournament. She finally moved to speak and he had to strain his ears to hear her.

"They're mine."

Both teens' faces would put Weasley hair to shame they were so red. Thankfully they were taking a longer way to the Great Hall thanks to a particularly uncooperative staircase and were by themselves.

Harry wasn't sure where his courage came from but he spoke anyway.

"Can I see you in them?"

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

"Only took those two a month."

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

That day, it quickly became known Harry and Hermione were a couple, much to the disappointment of many witches and far more wizards than Hermione had ever expected. Harry did indeed get to see Hermione in her favorite pair of knickers and every other one she owned.

When the Yule Ball was announced, Harry immediately asked Hermione and was treated to a special show for being such a good boyfriend. She enjoyed giving the show as much as he enjoyed receiving it.

When the second task came about, no one expected Harry to threaten to boil the Great Lake dry unless Hermione was brought to him. Even Dumbledore was shocked when Harry started doing just that. The mermen had a representative pleading with him immediately and Hermione on the platform minutes later.

When the third task came around, and Harry disappeared for a bit with the cup, everyone was extremely worried. When he returned and he sent an overpowered _Expelliarmus_ at Moody strong enough to send him into the castle walls two hundred yards away, panic ensued. When the badly injured, unconscious man turned back into Barty Crouch Jr, the Ministry went into an uproar.

At the end of the year, Harry was the undisputed Triwizard Tournament champion and had an amazing girlfriend. He was planning on spending the the entire summer with her, Dumbledore's objections be damned, learning all sorts of things about her body and helping her pick out all sorts of new things to wear.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

"Finally, the Hat Knitter is gone."

The small house elf returned to her duties, cleaning the Gryffindor Tower and preparing it for the Summer holiday.

"Winky, what bes you doing here?"

Dobby had popped in, surprised to find Winky cleaning the tower. All the other elves had sworn off doing so while Harry Potter's Grangy had been knitting hats for them to find.

"The Hat Knitter stopped knitting once Harry Potter, sir made her a happy witch. Since she stopped knitting, I started cleaning again." Winky's success was obvious.

Dobby nodded. Harry Potter did deserve the best, even if she happened to be a bit odd and knit hats once in a while.

* * *

Hermione's Knickers 2  
Idea by: Cloud Zen, Authored by Pax Humana. (Blame Cloud Zen for the ending.)

Ron Weasley was never the neatest of boys, even he would admit. But now he regretted that he was such a messy young man. There was an essay due for Transfiguration in ten minutes and he had no bloody idea where he had left it! He'd been up until midnight working on it with Harry while Hermione was nagging him, telling him which books and pages to look at. Why couldn't she do it herself rather than make him do his own research? Everyone knew she was so much better at it than, well, everyone he knew.

No, not in his trunk.

Not in his bed, nor under it.

In fact, it wasn't anywhere in his area of the dorm at all.

"Hang on! I was working with Harry. Maybe Harry took it for safekeeping. Yeah, I think I remember him saying he'd keep it safe for me so I didn't lose it." Ron muttered to himself and went over to Harry's trunk, wrenching it open and yanking out everything, piling it on Harry's bed as he looked for that blasted essay.

"Socks, shoes, more socks, socks with holes in them, undies, shirts, shirts with tears, trousers, belt, parchment, quills, ink- oops! Ah, essays. Nope, nope, not that, what's he done that one already for, no, no, lacy knickers, pink ones, what's this bit of string?" Ron's voice trailed off as he finally listened to what he'd been seeing and saying.

"Girlie knickers buried at the bottom of Harry's trunk?" Ron checked the outside again. "Definitely Harry's. So what in Merlin's name is he doing with all this stuff in his trunk?" Suddenly a horrible vision appeared before him, Harry the scrawny eleven year old boy who Ron had met trying on the hot pink knickers still in Ron's hands. "Eugh!"

Ron stood up, angry that he'd touched something so perverted, then remembered the prank yesterday where Harry had switched his butterbeer for water. "Hah, let's see how he likes the jokes now." Ron chuckled as he turned around, grabbing his stuff and his Transfiguration essay off his bedside table, leaving the rest of Harry's stuff, including the knickers, scattered around their dorm.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

After class, where Ron turned in his essay and grumbled under his breath about stupid teachers wanting stupid homework, the trio returned to the Gryffindor boys' dorm.

"Ron! What the hell were you doing with my stuff!" Harry was usually willing to live and let live when it came to Ron Weasley, but there were limits to everything.

"I was searching for my bloody essay, of course, wasn't I?"

Harry grunted, quickly grabbing and packing away items. A flash of pink in Ron's vision reminded him of the payback he had in mind.

"Well I know you didn't find it among MY things, Ron Weasley!"

"Nah, but I did find your little secret, didn't I?" Ron chuckled. "Who would have thought that the Boy-Who-Lived would enjoy parading around in girl's knickers! The other boys will love this!"

"Ron, you don't want to do that." Harry warned his 'mate'. It was times like these he wondered what went through Ron's head.

"Sure I do! They deserve to have a good laugh just as much as you do, Harry."

"Ron, don't." Harry was even colder. "You don't want to know what will happen if you do that. Now just give them back and keep quiet if you know what's good for you."

Unfortunately, Ron's temper was up and he snatched all of the offending items, turning and running to the Common Room with them.

"Hey everyone! Take a look at these! You'll never guess where I found these _girls'_ things!" Ron waved them around while yelling for everyone to hear. Some students trickled in to see what the commotion was, always ready for free entertainment.

"Do tell, brother mine."

"Yes, tell." His older brothers made their way over, always nearby when trouble was brewing.

"In Harry Potter's trunk!"

"Ronald Bloody Weasley!" Ron turned around, the triumphant expression on his face crashing at the sight of a truly pissed off Hermione Granger.

"It's the truth! I swear it, Hermione!"

"I know it is, _Ronald_. I'm the one who gave them to him, after all."

"-What?"

"I said that I gave him my knickers. I knew _he_ would never show them off for all the world to see."

The guys who had been crowding in to see all the garments suddenly move to the walls while the girls continued to glare at them for their perverted antics, though they did check out the underwear in question.

"But- but- Herms!"

"Give. Them. Back." Her voice could have frozen a star.

Ron's shaking hands reached towards her, twitching the knickers in his hands. Hermione snatched them away from him, quickly but thoroughly examining each one by one then hiding them somewhere on her person.

"But why did you give them to _Harry_?!" Ron demanded to know.

Rather than give Ron a scathing look, she turned to Harry and gave him a look that screamed adoration. "Because sometimes a boyfriend is just that good that a girl just has to give him a trophy."

Ron simply stood there, silent as his brain tried to catch up with what just happened. If he had been able to pay attention he might have heard Hermione promise to give Harry plenty of opportunities to earn them back as she _strutted_ back to the girls dormitory.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Within hours, every student had heard about Harry and Hermione. Dozens of girls corralled Hermione to find out where she bought her lingerie and even more to find out about her proclamation about Harry's talents. Harry found himself with a new source of fame but oddly didn't mind this one so much.

Tales of how scandalous Hermione's knickers were grew in the telling and Harry quickly became recognized as the reigning king of the boys at Hogwarts. To be able to land a bird that adventurous deserved respect. Sadly, to the other boys at least, Harry would not share any details as to what he had done to earn his "trophies."

Ron's brain finally caught up with him several hours later, having already missed breakfast, lunch, and several classes.

He called out to an empty common room. "Wait! Does this mean you two are dating?"

* * *

_**I had a strange idea one night that somehow Hermione's knickers kept ending up in Harry's things. Pax Humana suggested Winky might be behind it all. I could have taken things a lot racier, but opted for a simpler story as it fit my mood better when I composed this.**_

_**Subsequently I had an idea for Hermione to simply own that Harry had her knickers. I typed up a few things and Pax Humana ran with it with some further help from me. Both of these drabbles we consider cooperative works even if one or the other did the majority of the writing.**_

_**If you enjoyed this, please review.**_


	3. A Lady's Designs - Part 1

_**Again, blame YouTube and the 2013 Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. Please see the end for our personal notes on these stories.**_

_**Both short stories are in excess of 8000 words. Due to the combined length, Pax Humana and I made the decision to post the works for this theme across two chapters.**_

* * *

Unravelling Harry

By: Cloud Zen

With the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the past, the Wizarding World was a drastically changed place. However, when Draco Malfoy and his parents were excused from all punishment, Harry Potter stormed out of Courtroom Ten. He ignored the press, made no comment, returned to the Atrium and Flooed away.

Five years later, he had yet to be found.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

With Harry disappearing, his best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger fell apart as a couple. Hermione, as much as she cared for Ron, would openly admit to Harry being a necessary buffer. Ron was caught between missing his best friend and blaming him for the collapse of the fledgling relationship. Both enjoyed the occasional date but ultimately remained single, struggling with being almost as famous as the Boy-Who-Lived and Man-Who-Conquered.

Ginny Weasley, well known to be Harry's girlfriend, was hounded by the press and well wishers for years as to Harry's location and well being. Finally, in a delayed act of teenage rebellion, she found herself engaged to a nameless Wizard from France, some friend of a friend of a friend of her sister-in-law, Fleur Delacour. The press finally left her alone after that.

The remainder of the Weasley family was left alone for the most part despite their known close ties to Harry.

Draco Malfoy, even though he had been cleared of all charges, remained a social pariah along with the rest of his family, unwelcome at any gathering. People were no longer impressed by his family's wealth and remained suspicious of their intentions.

Neville Longbottom managed to stay out of the spotlight by staying in his greenhouses and settled down with Hannah Abbott. They took over the Leaky Cauldron from Tom who had decided nearly a century of running the pub was enough.

Luna Lovegood, the last of the famed "Ministry Five", so named since Harry was placed in a class of his own, continued her expeditions to find never before seen creatures. Rolf Scamander, grandson of Newt, author of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, would never be able to explain how he found himself married to the odd witch.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Daphne Greengrass was walking through downtown London. It was a rather pleasant summer's day, not too warm and perfectly sunny. The streets were busy, but not overly so, just enough so she could disappear into the crowds.

Ever since her younger sister, Astoria, married the scum of the Earth, Draco Malfoy, Daphne had lost all faith in the Wizarding World and retreated to the Muggles. Her inheritance was such that she would never have to work but with nothing taking up her time she felt empty. Her sister felt Draco was the center of the universe and could do no wrong. She even sided against Daphne when the foul cretin made a pass at Daphne and then nearly raped her when she turned him away. With Astoria backing him, there was no chance Daphne's side would be heard even though the DMLE looked for any excuse to make his life hell.

Following Harry Potter's lead, Daphne disappeared from that world, with no intention to ever return. It cost her everything but her inheritance, including her family. The only reason she had any money left was she took it out of Gringotts the day of Draco's attack, rather than dawdling about. The very next day everything else was stripped from her by her parents.

A shocking surprise to Daphne was how much she was worth in the Muggle world. The bank she had gone to nearly fell over themselves when she presented them with her Galleons and, though she couldn't understand many of the particulars, they were going to pay her very large sums of money thanks to something called "investing."

That had been a year ago. Daphne now much prefered human bankers to goblins. She was treated with respect and paid to keep her money in their hands. When she was told that all of her spending did not outstrip her interest, Daphne wasn't sure what to do. She had lived very lavishly, enjoying some of the finest food and clothing that the world had to offer, was sought after by the most handsome men, and, while she could continue to live that way with no fear of ever being unable to, she felt empty.

Seeing the atrocities committed during what should have been her seventh year at Hogwarts, Daphne was no longer the naive little girl her sister insisted on remaining.

Following wherever her feet would lead her, Daphne came to a small boutique, simply called "H", with some of the most beautiful lingerie she had ever seen in the store windows. The subtle notes of lace, ribbons, bows, sequins, translucent meshes and concealing opaque material combined into elegance Daphne had never before imagined. Everything was sexy but looked sinfully comfortable.

Deciding she had to indulge herself, Daphne entered the small store, a chime sounding above her.

"Welcome to _H_," a beautiful shop girl called out. She was dressed in a skirt suit that made her look a consummate professional but tastefully hinted at a wild, sexy woman hidden underneath, waiting to be unleashed.

"What can I help you find today?"

Daphne was so in awe of the selection around her, she wasn't sure what to say, so she settled on, "I wish I could tell you. Everything in here looks amazing." Feeling a particularly eye catching red bra and panty set, "and everything feels top quality, too. How come I've never heard of _H_ before?"

The shop girl smiled. "The owner has always sought out to create the best possible, never worrying about quantity or notoriety. He personally hand made everything you see here and every piece we've ever sold. I'm actually wearing some right now and I'll tell you, I will never wear anything else for the rest of my life."

Taking a second look at the girl, Daphne had to ask. "I mean no offense, but how could you afford this on a shop girl's wages?"

Laughter was not what Daphne expected. "Why don't you call me Liz. I actually didn't pay for any of it. I was like you, and came in one day just to look around. The owner was manning everything himself, no one to help him at the time. He took one look at me - I swear it was like he was staring into my very soul - and excused himself for a moment. When he came back, he handed me several sets, told me they were completely complementary and hoped I enjoyed them. When I finally regained control of my senses, he was gone, I was standing on the street with my gifts in a bag and the store was closed. I felt so wrong just accepting them without paying for anything. It only got worse when I got home and found everything to not only be a perfect fit but also nicer than anything I had ever seen even at the most expensive stores. It took me two months of coming back every day before he finally agreed to hire me. It's been a year now and I'm not sure I'll ever want to leave."

Examining a few more articles, Daphne had to agree, everything was exquisite and just accepting them as a gift seemed wrong.

Finding her voice, she asked, "do you think I could try on a few things?"

With a gentle smile on her face, Liz indicated for Daphne to wait one moment. Liz turned to a curtained off back area before bellowing out, "Oi! You've got a pretty girl out here! Get off your lazy bum!"

Shocked at Liz's sudden change in demeanor, Daphne just stared at the other girl.

Seeing the look on Daphne's face, Liz broke into giggles. When she had partially composed herself, she explained, "don't worry about it. He's a bit too focused on his work at times and it takes at least that to get his attention."

Numbly nodding, Daphne was about to respond when the curtains Liz had just called through opened.

"Fuck."

Even Liz looked shocked at his language.

With a deep sigh, the owner moved from the curtain. Quickly grabbing a small pile of articles, they were practically shoved into Daphne's hands before the owner made his way back through the curtain.

He called back, "Liz, don't charge her anything. Just get her out of here. Close the store and take the rest of the day off, paid."

Both girls stood dumbfounded. before Liz turned to stare at Daphne.

Daphne finally found her voice in a whisper. "Your boss is Harry Potter."

"You actually know his name?"

Daphne gave Liz an odd look. "You mean you work for him and don't even know his name?"

Liz grabbed Daphne by the arm and dragged the former Slytherin out of the boutique, locking the door behind them.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

The two young woman sat, pondering the afternoon's revelations over tea.

"So you apparently know about my boss's past."

Daphne nodded at Liz's statement. "I went to school with him for six years. I never knew him very well but he was very well known. He never finished his final year and just disappeared. That was five years ago. Everyone I went to school with has been looking for him ever since."

Liz simply sat, mindlessly stirring her tea. "Even you?" she asked.

Looking a bit uncomfortable, Daphne answered. "Not exactly. We came from a very small community, where just about anyone's business was everyone's business. That was especially true in Potter's case."

"Potter?"

"Yes, our boarding school was divided into four groups that rarely interacted outside of class. Most of my house, as we called them, didn't like him for any number of stupid reasons. I can tell you that none of them were good. Potter was held up on a pedestal and they loved to tear him down just because they could as much as others loved to hold him up."

"That's completely asinine. He's one of the sweetest people I know, even if he doesn't talk very much."

"At least that's never changed."

"Plus, he's amazingly talented but, no matter what I do, he won't try to spread out and grow his brand. I've never seen anything like his work anywhere else and I know people would pay a lot of money for it. He wouldn't even have to charge what I know he could get for it, and he'd be insanely rich."

Daphne just shook her head. "Liz, if even a single one of the rumours about his family's wealth are true, and there are dozens if not hundreds, then as the last of his family he's already far wealthier than you could ever imagine."

That caused Liz to blink in stunned confusion.

"What about his normal life? You've probably spent more time with him than anyone other than his old friends Granger and Weasley. And they were his best friends for seven years."

Liz shook her head. "He never talks about his past at all. He rarely leaves the shop but even then only for short walks. While I think he's at least not unhappy, I think he's far from happy. The only thing he seems to have is the boutique, and as talented as he is, I have no idea why he has it."

Silence once more overtook the two women. Daphne let her thoughts wander, trying to solve the mystery that was Harry Potter.

"How about I help you?"

The broken silence caught Liz off guard. "Help me with what?"

"Potter. Harry. There has to be a reason why you're still around after a year considering how uncooperative he seems to be."

Liz gained a far off look. "I suppose it was because I could tell he was broken. No one deserves to be that unhappy with the world. Sure he wasn't exactly unhappy, like I said, but I don't know how better to put it."

Daphne nodded her agreement. "But I have a connection to his past. If you, who had none but kept trying for lhe last year, couldn't get through to him, maybe someone who does have that connection will."

"What about his other friends you mentioned? Granger and Weasley?"

"Just before Potter disappeared, the two of them started dating. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. I can't think of two more mismatched people. As soon as Potter was gone, they broke up. He served as a buffer for their more abrasive personality traits."

Taking a long sip as an excuse to collect her thoughts, Liz debated Daphne's offer.

"So how would you help?"

Daphne was obvious in taking her time to choose her words carefully. "There were some very bad things that happened while the two of us were at school. To make things worse, he was at the center of almost all of them through no fault of his own. He may not have ever dealt with any of that and, since I was there, I might be someone he feels he can open up to." She took a sip of tea to separate her thoughts. "What are you hoping happens if I am able to help him?

"I want his brand to grow. Calling him a genius with women's clothing would be doing him a disservice. Just by wearing his pieces, I feel sexier and more confident. Maybe once he's in a better place, maybe with a boyfriend, he'll be willing to do that."

Tea spit from Daphne's mouth. "Boyfriend? Potter's gay?"

"What do you mean? Not to brag but have you seen me?" Liz indicated her rather stunning body. "He's never made a pass at me. Hell, He's even seen me naked when he was fitting me with new pieces. Not once have I ever even caught him with an erection while looking at me."

Daphne chuckled a bit. "He might be in a bad place, but there is no way Potter is gay. He had a very devoted girlfriend back in sixth year and was actually a pretty good boyfriend that time. He did have a few bad experiences before then but every girl he was with was actually quite a looker."

"Are you sure he wasn't just in denial? It isn't uncommon for fashion designers, or fashion conscious men in general, to be gay."

"I'm pretty sure but either way that isn't our main concern for now. Let's get back to the shop. I think it's time for a little intervention."

Liz nodded her agreement. The two women settled up their bill and made quick work of the walk back.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Harry was sitting in the back room of _H_ when he heard a woman's voice.

"Oh hell no, Potter. No drinking yourself into a stupor today."

Looking up he saw Daphne Greengrass. He had hoped to never encounter anyone from the magical world again, but without proof of UK citizenship, something he lacked after being born into the magical community, he couldn't get the necessary passport to leave the country without going through magical channels.

"Greengrass, you were asked to leave."

Liz cut in. "Actually, boss, you didn't ask her to leave. And I brought her back anyway."

Harry glared at his employee. "Fine, I told you to see her out and I gave you the rest of the day off. That still holds true."

"I don't think so. This is the first time I've ever seen you care about anything other than work, good or bad. She seems to know something about your past but wouldn't tell me. Bloody hell, boss, I didn't even know your name until she said it and I've worked here for a year!" Liz reined in her temper before continuing. "If you won't talk to me, and I know you don't talk to anyone else, talk to her."

With that, Liz did leave the boutique and locked the door behind her. Daphne had watched the other woman walk out and turned back to see a glowing wand tip inches from her face.

"Five seconds, Greengrass. Why are you here?"

Five years and he could still scare the piss out of anyone. Daphne took a large swallow before answering.

"Pure luck."

Suddenly, Daphne knew what Liz meant when she had said that Harry's eyes seemed to see her very soul. He watched her, unflinchingly, taking the measure of her.

After a few tense seconds, Harry lowered his wand and placed it back on a nearby table.

"Strange place for a Pureblood Princess to be, so what drew you to this part of London?"

Daphne let out the breath she was holding. "A year ago, Malfoy married my sister, tried to rape me, and my entire family took his side. I took my inheritance and ran. The next day, I was disowned as being an embarrassment to the family for daring to think about reporting him to the DMLE. I brought all of my galleons to some Muggle bank, they treated me like royalty, and I've lived on this side with minimal magic for the last year."

"So Malfoy fucked up your life, too?" A nod was her answer to his question.

"Bastard, and I use that term correctly now, potioned my best friends. Made them fall in lust, they ignored me, shunned me, and were compelled to give testimony to get him and his family off. I snuck them the counter agent and instead of being grateful, they nearly attacked me for potioning their feelings away. The next day was when the Malfoys were cleared and I walked away from that whole bloody world."

Daphne had never heard that side of the story. Even as much of a braggart as Draco normally was, he never let anything slip about managing to potion Weasley and Granger. He had obviously finally learned something of subtlety over the years. "So how did you get into this business?"

Harry let out a long suffering sigh. "Seven years of Hogwarts robes denied me a lot of what I would call a normal teenage experience. When I got out, I was 18, and all these Muggle girls were showing so much more skin and looking so much more attractive as a result. I read a bit about it all, trying to figure out why I found them more attractive, and I came to a realization.

"They're more comfortable in their own skin. For all their insecurities, Muggle girls are far more comfortable with themselves and their bodies than any witch I ever met. One night, back before Voldemort," Harry ignored Daphne's shudder at the name, "took over, a bunch of people dressed up like me to throw off the Death Eaters to get me to a safe house. One of the girls there apparently took four months to get over being seen by her fiancé like that. Then we go back to the Yule Ball, I know I was a bad date, but as a result I got to watch everyone there. Not a single girl was happy to be dressed up and dancing. They all put on fake faces and made it seem like that was the reason they were happy, but it wasn't. They were happy to be courted, not happy to be all prettied up."

Daphne wasn't sure Harry was even making sense to himself at this point. Half the bottle of gin was gone, into him she suspected. Girls anywhere could be unhappy with themselves, and while it was especially bad during their Hogwarts years she suspected witches were no worse than other girls.

Some girls did care more about being courted than anything else. Others cared more about their appearance. Some were like Granger and cared most about their grades. The truth was, every girl liked to be thought beautiful and sought after at least once in a while. Lost in her thoughts, Daphne almost missed Harry continue.

"But I saw happier girls out in the Muggle world. and I thought maybe I could at least make other girls happy. Then I saw the torture devices they called bras. Whoever thought those things were a good idea needs to be AK'd."

Daphne snorted at his blatant support of something punishable with a lifetime in Azkaban for something as minor as the discomfort of a bra.

"Almost every woman I've ever seen has no business wearing what they were trying to sell. I knew from a single glance they couldn't be comfortable and probably did nothing other than look pretty. I managed to enroll in a fashion design school with some faked credentials and after the first year dropped out."

Harry shook his head.

"We wear clothes. They cover us up and show us off. It's amazing how many people forget that. Clothes can make a person confident or cowardly, feel attractive or hideous, draw good or bad attention. I spent fifteen years wearing cast offs from my whale of an older cousin. I know how horrid it makes a person feel to have clothes that don't look, feel, or smell good, or just simply don't fit."

"Hermione, for all of her brains, was never confident in her looks. She thought she needed to spend three hours dolling herself up to be pretty. Now that I know better, it simply came down to her clothes didn't fit her right. They emphasised the wrong features on her."

Daphne just stared wide-eyed as Harry continued to vent. Based on her conversation with Liz, Daphne suspected he had not spoken as much in the last five years as he had the last five minutes.

"Is all of this about Granger? Is that why you call this place _H_? Does that stand for 'Hermione' or 'Hers' or something like that?"

Harry gave a sad smile. "Part of it is, I suppose. The 'H' actually came from my mark. I would embroider the first letter of my name in my pieces, sometimes hidden in the design, but it was proof that the pieces were mine. But yes, Hermione was part of this. Even after the counter agent, whatever Malfoy had done had made it so she wanted nothing to do with me. I didn't need her to be with me, but I did want her to be happy. I knew she wouldn't be with Ron but I had hoped to at least be in her life."

The gin was quickly catching up with Harry. He had never even hinted to anyone that he had feelings for Hermione. While Daphne had never been an enemy at school, she was certainly not an old friend, if she could be called anything other than a schoolmate at all. That he was confessing so much only spoke to how inebriated he must have been.

"After that, I just gave up on her, and then when Malfoy got off the next day, I gave up on the rest of them."

Daphne had sat down next to Harry, letting him lean against her, and, before long, his head was in her lap with her slowly running her fingers through his hair. It was obvious to her that everything had built up in him over the years and he had never had anyone that could let him vent. It was one thing to know he was a hero. It was another thing to be personally reminded that he was also just a young boy at the time. The media always exaggerated everything, but witnessing his human side first hand was humbling.

"But I couldn't get the idea of her out of my head for the longest time. It was for that reason I tried fashion school, it was for that reason I quit, it was for that reason I opened this place. I knew she would never let herself be anything but professional, but what people couldn't see might make all the difference in the world. I just wanted her to feel she was as pretty as I always saw her.

"After the first year, it finally stopped being about her, but I didn't have anything else to do, no other skills, and nowhere else to go. So I just kept sewing."

Continuing to hold his head in her lap, Daphne noticed he had finally drifted off to sleep, the gin working its vile magic.

Through all of his convoluted ramblings, she had discerned a few truths. Potter had once been in love with Granger. Granger never knew it. Granger's potion addled mind rejected a too strong show of affection. Potter started the boutique because he wanted to make things that Granger would have thought herself pretty in. Potter had given up on Granger, mostly, but had yet to find anything new.

Daphne dreaded what might have happened to him without Liz, but Liz, being a Muggle, couldn't relate. Potter had to be too careful. One slip up about magic and he might have been found and drug, likely after some kind of fire fight, back to the horrid Wizarding World.

Liz was right. Potter was broken and needed help.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

The next several months, Daphne effectively lived in the store with Harry. She insisted he start balancing his tireless work ethic with life outside. She left Liz in charge of the boutique, usually to ring up customers picking up their finished products Harry had already fitted to them while making sure he left to go to lunch and dinner elsewhere.

After only a few weeks, Harry had started looking more lively and, despite working less, was producing more at an even higher level of quality.

Harry had an unmatched eye. With a single glance, he could know exactly what needed to be done for a woman to have the perfect fit. Just for fun though, Daphne insisted she and Liz model all of his designs. Almost six months after finding _H_, Daphne saw the first blush on his face while she was modeling a particularly racey number.

Coordinating with Liz and her rapidly forming connections with other retailers, Daphne had managed to drum up a very large interest in Harry's work. They had even managed a tentative slot at London Fashion Week. Knowing Harry did not deal with people outside her and Liz especially well, the two of them hired some experienced help to orchestrate the fashion show. When the woman showed up to discuss plans, Harry did his usual thing and politely asked her to wait while retrieving several pieces.

A half hour later, Harry not only had a new customer for life, the woman announced his work far too good for such a small venue as had been scheduled.

Looking around the boutique, she declared, "Daphne, Liz, his work outshines every major label I've ever seen or worn. If I wasn't sold on the look already, the fit removed any lingering doubt. I know we're on a time crunch, but I'm not sure if we weren't we could find models to do his work justice."

Their organizer quickly called in more help and every favor she could find. The show was now slated to have an audience of over a thousand and coverage from every notable fashion magazine in the English speaking world.

Two more months passed and the show was finally upon them. Harry was finally feeling human enough to deal with any press, though Daphne kept him on a very short leash. Every teaser was carefully screened by her and no one but her, Liz and the event organizer ever got to speak with him.

Even backstage at the show, Harry spoke to no one except Daphne. He operated on gestures.

When the first girl walked out on stage, the only sounds were cameras flashing and the ambient music. There was no cheering.

While every model grew increasingly nervous, Harry simply gave each one a smile before they walked out. Daphne had always underestimated the effect his smile had. Every girl went out for their walk happy and confident.

When Daphne walked out, wearing the final ensemble of the show, the crowd erupted. She did not even bother maintaining composure and ran back up the walk. Much the the audience's amusement, she had to literally drag Harry out to take his bow.

At the end of the show, he spoke his only words to the group of models. "Thank you for everything." His words were so sincere that every girl immediately asked when his next show would be. They all just wanted to help such an honest individual.

As the girls left, finally allowed to brag about the show they were involved in, each was presented with a small bag. Much to each of their surprises, everything they wore during the show was given to them to keep in appreciation for their help.

Within a week, Daphne was turning down requests to come to the boutique. They were booked for fittings six months out. As the press coverage intensified, it grew to 18 months.

Harry was back to being a happy young man. Daphne made sure he balanced work with pleasure - walks about downtown London and meals at small, intimate places - but remained at his side.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

"So when are we getting boss a boyfriend?"

Daphne giggled at Liz. It was an ongoing debate between the two of them. Liz kept insisted Harry was gay. "No man that talented at making bras and knickers could be straight," was what she often repeated. Daphne would just smile enigmatically whenever her friend would go off on a rant justifying her position.

"I'm telling you, Liz. Harry isn't gay. He isn't sneaking off for midnight rendezvous with men. I've been his PA for over a year now. I know where he is every moment of every day."

Liz groaned at Daphne's oft repeated explanation. "Well if he isn't gay, then why the hell hasn't he made it into my bed or yours? I know we'd both welcome him with open arms and open legs. The only explanation I can see as to why he hasn't given it good to one of us is that he simply isn't interested in women."

Daphne rose from their table, leaving her share of the bill for their dinner. "Liz, I want you to think about something." At the other woman's nod, Daphne continued. "If Harry were gay, why would he genuinely care so much about what women look like? Think about that the next time you slip on a pair of knickers he made _just for you_."

Finding her way back to _H_, Daphne let herself in. The boutique had long since closed up for the day and she made her way to the back where Harry was working.

He was in the middle of attaching several precious gems to his next showpiece. It was for Daphne to wear at the upcoming show as the grande finale. Daphne knew it was for her. He made no secret that it was. She sat there, watching him work. It was mesmerizing.

Harry worked with an efficiency that made house elves look lazy. Even more, he made no mistakes.

As he attached the last gem, he called out. "Any thoughts, Daphne?"

"It's beautiful work as always. Admittedly, this might be your best work yet."

Nodding, Harry wrapped the finished piece around a mannequin. The mannequin was actually a perfect replica for Daphne's body that she had insisted on. Harry had often just finished pieces and set them aside, no one but him able to see what they would look like on a woman ahead of being worn.

Taking in the finished product, Daphne was drawn into it. It was a brilliant piece. The blue diamonds perfectly matched the hue of her eyes. How Harry had found the time to hand select each of the four thousand gems, she didn't know. Even more impressive to her was the time he must have spent learning jewelry-making. She heavily suspected magic was involved in both his learning and the crafting of the showpiece, but she wasn't about to complain.

"Harry . . . " Daphne trailed off, breathless. Every gem sparkled, looking like flowing crystal clear water. She made her decision. "I should have done this months ago."

Grabbing his hand, Daphne dragged him up the stairs to his small flat.

"You, Mister Potter, are going to enjoy this."

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

"You owe me twenty quid."

Liz looked up for her magazine article about Harry's upcoming fashion show.

Daphne was looking like the cat that got the canary _and_ the cream.

"Oh you've got to be kidding me."

"Nope, he's as straight as an arrow. Confirmed last night. And again this morning."

"You lucky bitch," Liz grumbled as she fished out a twenty note from her purse.

Daphne accepted the note before sitting down to gossip about her experiences.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Eight years.

It had been eight years since Hermione Granger last saw her best friend, Harry Potter. Her relationship with Ron had fallen apart within weeks of Harry disappearing. Malfoy getting off on all charges, helped by her testimony, was a sore spot in her memory. She had long since suspected that was the cause for Harry to leave but doubts had always lingered.

She had just had a girls day with her mum. As per usual, their conversation included Hermione not having a boyfriend, Harry, how her job was going, Harry, and more about Harry. Hermione couldn't help but bring him up. She missed him.

The fact that more time had passed without seeing or even hearing from him than all the time she had spent with him back as students at Hogwarts hurt. She had not mentioned to her mother that part of her job at the ministry was to track him down.

Being one of his friends, and the only one employed by the ministry, they had assigned her that miserable task. Even worse, they were using her failure at it to justify denying her advancement. About the only amusement on her part in the last eight years was how Malfoy had found out he was broke. Apparently, his father had bankrupted the family supporting Voldemort and the money that was coming from the Black family had dried up.

Hearing the angry cries echo through the Ministry as the younger Malfoy found out he had no claim to the remainder of the Black fortune - he was formally a bastard since his parent's marriage was annulled somehow - was absolutely satisfying. That had been six months ago and the entire Malfoy family had proven to be non-entities ever since.

Walking down a street in downtown London, she happened across a window advertisement. It was a stunning blonde woman, her age, with bright blue eyes, wearing a bra and knicker set that was covered in diamonds. It was stunning, beautiful, and made the model even more so.

Stopping to take a second look, Hermione was awestruck. After a moment, she realized the model looked familiar.

"Can I help you with something?"

Hermione was startled by a woman's voice. Once she regained her bearings, she realized it was a shop girl speaking to her.

"I was just looking at the advertisement. It's beautiful but could swear I know the model from somewhere."

"You mean Daphne?"

Hermione nearly rocked back in shock. "Daphne? Do you mean Daphne Greengrass? I went to school with her! I always knew she was pretty but this is just . . ."

"Yeah, the boss made that set just for her for the show a few months back. That poster still draws in more people than anything else we've ever put up. Lucky girl."

"She had that custom made, just for her? Very lucky girl, indeed."

The other girl chuckled. "You have no idea." Regaining her composure, the girl introduced herself. "I'm Liz. If you'd like I can try and schedule you a fitting. We might actually be able to get you in sometime in the next two years if you know Daphne."

"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione then caught on to what Liz said. "Wait, there's a two year waiting list?"

Liz put on a much more strained smile. "Yes, two years conservatively. If you'll give me your contact information, I'll see if Daphne or the boss can do some magic and get you in sometime sooner."

Hermione winced at the word "magic" but gave over her information anyway.

As she walked away, she finally looked up to see what store she had just been in front of.

"_H_, huh? I wonder if mum has heard anything about them?"

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Harry was watching Daphne and a dozen others mull about on the Paris photoshoot set when he saw Daphne reach for her cell phone.

They were in between shoots of the newest examples of Harry's work. Daphne was once again wearing his finest pieces but the other models still looked absolutely gorgeous.

When Daphne started looking angry, Harry rose to find out what was going on. Only her hand for him to stay away held him back. As Daphne grew angrier, but kept her hand up, Harry grew more antsy.

Finally, she ended the call and made her way over to Harry.

"So what was that about?"

"That was Liz. Apparently she had an unwelcome guest at the store today."

Harry immediately looked concerned. "Do I need to head back there?"

Daphne giggled at his protectiveness. "No, silly. Your place is here, watching me pose scantily clad in all sorts of your creations. Liz is a big girl and can handle herself."

Pulling his lover into a hug, careful not to smudge her makeup, Harry reveled in her presence.

For the last six months, ever since he finished the blue diamond piece, he and Daphne had been sharing a bed. Occasionally, Daphne even let Liz join them, though that was a rare occasion. Harry thought the world of Liz, but if Daphne had ever said "no more" to the other woman, he would be fine.

Business was booming. Though they didn't need the money, Harry and Daphne would have been set for a long time just on the last year's commissions. Actually charging what his work was worth was a hard concept for Harry to accept. He often overrode Daphne and Liz when it came to prices for some clients, and he often insisted on fitting in some random woman that would normally have never dreamed of affording his work much less getting a fitting scheduled.

It was his personal mantra that the fine things in life should be enjoyed by as many as possible so he tried to make the day of some hard on her luck woman as often as he could.

Hearing the shoot director call out, Harry reluctantly released Daphne to return to her job. He never liked letting her out of his arms, but damn if he didn't enjoy watching her walk away, especially when she put that extra sway in her hips just for him.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

"But . . . Harry-"

"Yes, dear. _H_ is owned by a young man named Harry Potter. I thought it quite odd that he shared your friend's name but there are a lot of Harrys in England and maybe even more Potters. Plus, you're 26, dear. Expecting one of your classmates from your magic school to open up a non-magical lingerie store and turn it into a multinational brand worth billions in less than a decade would be absurd."

Hermione stared at her mother. The older woman had known almost the entire time where Harry was but never connected that Harry with her daughter's Harry.

"Excuse me, mum, but I have to be going." As Hermione rushed out the door, she heard her mother call after her.

"See if you can get me a fitting while you're at it, dear! I'd rather not have to wait two years to finally get a comfortable bra!"

Beet red in the face, Hermione Apparated to an out of the way alley near _H_.

She rushed to his shop, hoping to make it there before closing.

Arriving just minutes before Liz would lock the doors, Hermione made it, red faced and out of breath.

"Hermione? What's wrong?" the shop girl asked.

"Please, let me talk to him. I've been trying to find him for eight years. Just let me talk to him."

Liz looked torn. Harry had been her boss for four years, a very good friend for three, and an off and on lover for two. The desperate young woman in front of her had been the major reason why he had nearly broken down and faded into nothing. As protective as he was of Daphne and Liz, they were possibly even more protective of him.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Hermione."

The brunette was now practically begging. "Please. He was my best friend and disappeared on me eight years ago. There was an accident. I was still in a daze when I last spoke to him and I said some awful things that I didn't mean. Please, just a few minutes."

Before Liz could decide, the curtains to the back opened revealing a rather pissed off Daphne Greengrass.

"Granger."

"Please, Daphne, just two minutes. If he wants me gone after that, fine, but two minutes."

Daphne seemed to debate the matter with herself before conceding. "Fine, two minutes." Hermione was about to jump for joy when Daphne continued. "But! I will be in there, and the moment he tells you to leave, you're gone. No questions asked. No debating."

Hermione's nod would have put Harry's old house elf friend to shame.

The pair of women walked to the back room.

Immediately upon seeing that messy black hair, his name escaped Hermione's lips. "Harry."

The young man froze. Even after eight years, he knew that voice. He would likely never forget that voice. The only thing keeping him from panicking was that he knew Daphne was there with them.

Without turning away from his work, he answered. "Hermione." He could almost picture the tears running down her face but refused to turn and look. "Say your piece."

Stifling her tears and sniffles, Hermione explained her efforts over the last eight years. She explained how she convinced the Ministry to make that one of her assigned tasks so she could use their funding to help find him. She explained her falling out with Ron and her frustration with the Wizarding World as they kept expecting more miracles from her and even more from the absent Harry.

When she finally stopped, her cathartic release achieved, Hermione waited. She had talked for well over her two minutes, but neither Harry nor Daphne had asked her to leave. The room was silent for nearly a minute, the air growing uncomfortable, before Harry spoke.

"And what did you hope to achieve by coming here?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "I want my best friend back. I want to leave the Ministry and their stupidity behind." Then rather meekly she continued. "And maybe get my mum in for a fitting. She wanted me to ask."

Harry actually laughed at her final request as he turned around. "Fine fine, get over here you silly girl."

With what amounted to a flying leap, Hermione was in Harry's arms. Harry simply looked up and gave Daphne a loving smile.

Thankfully, she returned it.

When the trio sat down to talk about everything, it came out that Harry was so anxious to help his friends, he failed six times to make the counter agent correctly. By the time he had it ready and gave it to them, he had left it too late for the cure to do its job before the trial, not that Harry knew anything about the delayed action. Once again, Harry's lackluster potions education reared its ugly head. He couldn't apologize enough but Hermione was so relieved to have her friend back, she didn't say a word about his failure to follow the directions properly.

"Harry, even if I was under the influence of Malfoy's potion, I still said what I did. I can't take that back and I know it hurt you. Can we just let it go now since we both messed up, even if we didn't mean to?"

Nodding, Harry seemed very happy to do just that. When Daphne came up and gave him a kiss and a hug, Hermione watched wistfully.

"Wait, what?" Harry was confused.

Daphne just smiled.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

When Hermione failed to show up for work the next day, no one was overly concerned. When a week had passed and there was still no word from her, only her immediate supervisor was concerned. When a month passed without word, the Aurors were finally permitted to investigate. They found no trace.

Six months later, the Daily Prophet published a small article saying that Hermione Granger had gone missing while investigating the whereabouts of Harry Potter.

A particularly tired owl arrived at Hogwarts on a cold December morning carrying that morning's edition.

An eleven year old first year muggleborn girl received her copy late into breakfast. Having already finished eating, she promptly began to read the paper for new and interesting things about this new world she now found herself in.

On the second to last page, she found a tiny blurb talking about Hermione Granger.

"Why is everyone worried about her?" she asked one of the Prefects.

"She was a hero of the war. A lot of people looked up to her and her going missing is worrisome."

The young girl shook her head.

"No, I mean why would they think she's missing? She's a world famous model for _H_ along with Daphne Greengrass. My mum has been trying to get an appointment for a fitting for almost a year now. I think she has one with Harry Potter himself for sometime late next year."

The Great Hall went silent.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Nine long years.

Harry Potter had been missing from the Wizarding World for nine years. They finally found him, hiding in a tiny Muggle shop making women's undergarments of all things. Molly Weasley wailed at how much the Muggle world had corrupted him and how deviant he must have become to be making such things.

A contingent of Ministry officials appeared outside _H_, immediately casting all forms of charms and wards to prevent anyone from interrupting their triumphant reclamation of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Conquered.

As they opened the door, a small chime sounded.

"Can I help you?" A pretty young woman asked.

"Yes, we're here to see Harry Potter."

The woman looked a bit embarrassed. "I'm sorry but he's a bit busy at the moment. I can schedule you an appointment but it might take a bit before he can meet with you."

Disgruntled sounds emanated from the assortment of people who seemed quite put off by the idea Harry was not available at their convenience. A representative stepped forward. "Now see here. You _will_ fetch Harry Potter. We have the press here and it would not do to have nothing for them."

A rustling sound at the back of the store drew everyone's attention. Out walked a gorgeous blonde haired, blue eyed woman. "I'm Mister Potter's personal assistant. If you do not already have a scheduled meeting with him, I can set one up for you. However, I must say, it is rather odd to have men requesting lingerie fittings."

The shop girl was obviously struggling to maintain her composure as the collection of oddly dressed people sputtered in indignation.

"The next opening in Mister Potter's schedule is June 18th, 2008 at, let's see, 2 PM."

One man cried out, "but that's not for another year!" while another sputtered out, "we're not here for fittings!"

After letting the group continue on for a bit, the blonde finally cleared her throat. "I'm sorry, but Mister Potter is terribly busy. If you're not on the schedule, and you aren't, I'm going to have to ask you all to leave until such time as you actually _have_ an appointment."

Shocked at being dismissed, the group found themselves back on the street. One of the older men regained his bearings before the rest and looked back at the store. In one of the windows, there was a poster of the blonde woman wearing a scandalously revealing combination covered in rubies, topazes, and sapphires.

At the bottom it identified the model. "Daphne Greengrass!" the man called out.

Try as they might, no wizard or witch could get back into the boutique. The neighbours had to call the police to get the group to disperse. The collected wizards and witches never thought to question why they were suddenly visible to all the surrounding Muggles.

No matter how often they tried, the Ministry never seemed to be able to get past Harry's shop girl or his PA to be able to finally meet with him and welcome him back to the Wizarding World.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

A little girl played in the sand while three women looked on fondly.

"So this is where all my favorite girls disappeared to," a man called out.

"Daddy!" the little girl shouted with joy. She dropped her little shovel and bucket and rushed to the dark haired man who scooped her up and tossed her into the air. Her father repeatedly tossed her into the air eliciting constant giggling from her.

While he continued to toss his daughter into the air, the three women caught up. "Everything okay, Harry?"

Harry stopped flinging his daughter about and placed her to ride on his shoulders. "Everything's fine. I just got held up but our vacation has officially started. No more interruptions. Just you, me, Liz, and Hermione."

The little girl bopped him on the head. "Don't forget me, daddy!"

Harry laughed. "Of course not. Who could forget you, munchkin?"

Daphne reached up to play with her daughter's foot. "None of us, that's for sure."

The adults laughing just confused the little girl.

"Daddy, when is Grandma going to get here?"

Hermione answered. "Grandma will arrive here tomorrow. I'm picking her up at the airport so we can have a little bit of mother-daughter time ourselves before she comes and spoils you rotten."

The little girl pouted for a bit but smiled. Oh well, they were all there to play with her for the entire next week. Happily, she returned to tugging on her Daddy's hair, enjoying being taller than everyone else. Life was great.

* * *

_**Cloud Zen: Anyone who has read our other works knows both Pax Humana and I absolutely adore Hermione. While I have some issues with her character and how JKR saw her grow through the books, on the whole I adore her. My story is not intended to bash Hermione in any way. By random chance (1d20 roll) I ended up making Daphne the primary girl.**_

_**Thanks to Pax Humana and Daisy Duck for their editing skills and invaluable feedback.**_

_**If you enjoyed either of these, please review. Also, if you have any suggestions for ideas for us to write for, please pass them along in reviews or PMs.**_


	4. A Lady's Designs - Part 2

_**This is Pax Humana's response to the prompt originally developed. Considering the length of each of our stories, we decided to split the theme across two chapters this time.**_

* * *

Setting a New Trend

By: Pax Humana

"But where would you go?" Hermione asked as she stirred the mushroom soup. She was still struggling with the idea of Harry leaving the wizarding world once they'd dealt with Voldemort.

"Almost anywhere has to be better than here, Hermione. Hundreds of muggleborns are being hunted and locked up for the crime of being born but no one seems to care enough to stand up to it. Then there's all the crap with the Ministry even before the bastard got a new body."

Hermione couldn't exactly argue against that. She was still ashamed of how she'd behaved in 5th and 6th years, not writing to him over the summers when she knew he needed help was only the tip of the iceberg. Since Ron had abandoned them for a bit of food, they talked about so many things, opening up, clinging to each other.

After a little discussion on the Horcruxes, they went back to Harry's escape, as Hermione privately thought of it. It gave them a good topic to think about, what they would do after they won, lifting their spirits after the depressing lack of success with their hunt. Soon enough, Hermione had agreed to help Harry, do just about whatever was needed to let him succeed.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

As the clean up of the final battle was starting, Hermione was being dragged off by Ron and kissed right in front of Harry. Ron was bragging about how he'd imitated Parseltongue, something Hermione knew was impossible, and grabbed the basilisk fang to kill the last Horcrux and clearly expecting Hermione to praise him. She had never trusted him again after he betrayed them on the hunt and he thinks a few lies would win her over? He never changed. No, she didn't have time for Ron or any of them. She would keep her promises.

"I'm sorry, Ron, we have to go."

Ron kept on talking over her and Harry walked away. In the end, she turned and Apparated away to the little spot by the lake that she liked to read, back before the wizarding world went too crazy. Harry was waiting for her there.

"Ah, you are a little late. I was afraid you had changed your mind."

"No, Harry. I'm staying on your side and you can't get rid of me."

Harry gave his first smile since he'd discovered the true depths of Snape's treachery and took her hand. They Disapparated with a loud crack, leaving behind a letter addressed to McGonagall.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

By the time anyone found the letter, Harry and Hermione had already visited Gringotts. While the goblins were certainly not fond of Harry or any wizard, they weren't going to stand in the way of him entering his vaults. Not while he and his best friend were carrying THAT wand, anyway, and were perfectly willing to use it. The way his eyes were glowing also put fear into the bankers.

Harry left with the sum total of his vault, along with the contents of the Black, Lestrange and other vaults to which he had access thanks to Voldemort's memories and the rather literal interpretation the goblins took of their treaties and their customers' wishes.

The pair made a couple of other raids before they left for good, though no wizard or witch saw them after they left the bank.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

After looking for work they could do for thirty-three days, Hermione finally admitted something Harry had already accepted. "Our classes at Hogwarts were useless!" She wanted to rant at Harry but he was nodding along.

"I worked that out during the hunt, actually. Oh, I don't just mean for the real world," he added, avoiding using the term 'Muggle' and other wizarding words as part of their fresh start, "but even in their world, they don't set out to teach us how to get jobs let alone how to do them. Well, unless you call that half-hearted bit of career advice we got in fifth year."

Hermione shook her head, her bushy hair flying. "I didn't want to see it, did I?"

Harry tried to be diplomatic about it. "Honestly, who would? Look, why don't we go out tonight, have some dinner at that nice Indian place you like, and see if we can come up with some ideas? It's not like we need the money so we don't have to rush into anything."

Hermione huffed then nodded. "Okay, Harry. Thank you."

Hermione's parents had eventually forgiven her for getting them out of the firing line but they weren't returning to England, and Hermione's commitment to stay with Harry saw her side with him over her parents. Even when Harry had tried to convince her, she remained adamant. "You still need me, Harry Potter. I won't abandon you again."

A month after their return to London, she was no less determined to help him but at a loss on how to do it. While the two friends were out at dinner, Harry looked at a group of girls over on the next table as he drank his third glass of wine. In the few seconds he was watching, he noticed as one after another, half of them adjust their bras and he turned back, blushing.

"What is it, Harry?"

"Over at the next table."

"Hmm?" Hermione hummed as she ate her curry.

"Is it common for girls to erm." He made a gesture.

Hermione swallowed what she was eating. "Fairly common. I'm a little surprised that they all did it like that in public but bras can get very uncomfortable, especially for girls with a bigger chest."

Harry nodded as Hermione went back to doing the delightful meal justice. He thought over it in his somewhat tipsy state and while it might be hard to get a start in the fashion industry, he did have a number of advantages over other hopefuls that might make up for his lacks. Maybe it was arrogant of him but he'd seen the complicated things in the shops and for the life of him couldn't see how they could be comfortable. Surely making a better bra couldn't be that hard?

The next day, while Hermione picked up the morning papers, Harry went to his study to start drawing up some designs. He'd liked art in school and thought it was a shame that Hogwarts offered nothing on it, so he expected it would be easy to draw up a better bra.

Twenty-seven sheets of paper crumpled up and burned later, Harry admitted it could take a while. For a start, he was trying to draw something without knowing quite what he wanted to draw. For another, well, he didn't know enough about the female body.

When Hermione came home, he happily downed his pencils and got up, stretching and headed out to greet her.

"Hi, Harry. What were you doing?" Hermione asked him curiously. Over their time in London, she was the one to use the study more than he did.

"Oh, um. I had an idea, Hermione. For what kind of job I could do." Harry wondered why he was so reluctant to tell her then remembered just what he had been drawing and got embarrassed all over again.

Hermione smiled. "What was it?"

"Er, I was thinking of what happened last night, and, I was thinking I could do something to help."

"You mean cooking?"

"No. I had my fill of cooking for people with _them_, I'm never going to cook again if I can help it."

Hermione nodded. "That's what I thought. So what, then?"

"I was thinking we, I mean, I could try to get into fashion. I was thinking of what you said about them often being uncomfortable and I remember the lady at #9 always complained about how her back hurt when she came around to Aunt Petunia's for afternoon tea. It doesn't seem like they do the job right at all."

"You mean bras? You want to design a better bra to save the women of the world, Harry?" Hermione was teasing him, and he knew it, but he blushed anyway.

"I guess. It's also something to do, some way I can feel useful in my own right, not as someone's symbol or sacrifice."

Hermione's eyes darkened briefly at that before she forced cheerfulness into her voice. "And it lets you get your hands on my bits."

"What?!" Harry choked out.

"Oh, relax, Harry. So what have you got in mind so far?"

"Well, I haven't got as far as I'd like..." Harry trailed off.

"Let me have a look." Hermione got up and walked past him into the study, picking up his most recent effort.

"Oh, Harry." Hermione sighed.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry apologised out of habit.

"You don't have to apologise, Harry. You do have to improve, however, before you can show anyone these drawings."

"It's not that easy to draw the human body!"

"You're not drawing the human body, Harry. You're trying to draw the female body. There's only one thing to do. Get your pencils and a fresh sheet of paper, Harry. I'll go and get ready to model for you."

"What?!"

"Are you saying I'm not good enough, Harry?" Hermione's eyes flashed and Harry couldn't tell if she was seriously getting angry or not.

"No, not at all!" Harry might have been sheltered and socially inept but he wasn't stupid enough to give a different answer to that. "I am surprised. I didn't expect you to tell me like that, that I _have_ to use you as my life model."

"Well I don't see anyone else around volunteering. I suppose you could ask one of those fangirls from the wizarding world-"

Harry shuddered. "No! I am not objecting to you, Hermione. Honest."

"Good." Hermione crossed her arms just under her breasts, an action that drew his eyes like a magnet to them. She noticed where he was looking and smirked. "Shall we get started?"

"Alright, Hermione."

Harry headed past her into the study, nervously fiddling with his pencils and paper as he worried and waited for- "Hermione!"

"Yes, Harry. Honestly, you'd think you've never seen a girl's chest before."

"Not like this, I haven't." Harry muttered to himself.

Hermione had returned topless. He could see everything. The faded scar from that Death Eater Dolohov's curse. The angry red line on the right hand side where her bra had been pinching her... chest. The slight flush to her cheeks and neck as she watched him looking her over. He saw it all.

"T- turn around." Harry managed to squeeze out past his stuttering, his expanded awareness of Hermione's body very much a double-edged sword.

Both Gryffindors relaxed once her back was turned. For Hermione, as much as she brazened through it, it was nerve-wracking showing her body to anyone, even Harry. She was worried about her weight, the excess inches on her stomach, and all the little imperfections she had noticed, or created in her mind, over her teenage years, and of course her curse scar. Without seeing Harry, she was able to put his presence to the back of her mind while she recited Arithmancy formulae to herself.

For Harry, her chest was a big distraction and one he didn't know if Hermione really wanted him to resist too easily. On the one hand, she was certainly an independent young woman who wanted to be valued for her mind but on the other, well, all girls wanted to feel sexy, didn't they? Now that she wasn't watching him, he felt a lot less pressure. He picked up his pencils that he had forgotten under the stress and started sketching.

He made a number of drawings. The first one was of Hermione's back just as it was, lines from her bra and all. The next one was of what her back should look like without those lines. Lastly, he sketched Hermione wearing his idea of a new and improved support garment.

Looking them over, he made a few changes, comparing them to the live model and editing until he was satisfied.

"O-okay. Can you turn side on?"

"Like this, Harry?"

"That's great, Hermione."

Harry continued the process, drawing Hermione from the back, the sides, the front, though that took the longest thanks to his hands shaking, then with her arms out to the sides, out front, up high, and so on. By the end, both of them were past their initial embarrassment over her partial nudity, something that was proven when Hermione came over to him when he was done.

"So these are the rough ideas you had for a new bra, Harry?" Hermione asked as she looked through them.

"Yeah. I had a few more ideas as you posed for me, too." Harry was hard at work doing new sketches and he had to admit, they were a lot better now that he had a better idea of what the female body looked like, or at least what one female in particular looked like.

Hermione nodded to herself. "I like these ones at the bottom of the pile more."

"Yeah, they're the later ones."

Hermione grinned. "And?"

"Ok, I admit it. You were right again."

"Good to see you've got some sense, Harry." Hermione grinned at him.

"Ha ha, Hermione. No, really. This did help a lot. Thank you, Hermione."

"You're welcome, Harry." She moved in to give him one of her hugs only to stop short. "Er, I'll be right back." She dashed from the room, finally remembering that she had been topless in front of him.

When she returned a few minutes later, Harry gave her a thorough looking over without thinking about it. He had just spotted that she was wearing a bra when he caught sight of her face. "Sorry, Hermione."

"Honestly, Harry. I'd tell you to get your mind on the job but I think it already was."

He nodded and was about to apologise again.

"No, Harry. You don't have to apologise again. It was an accident and no harm done." She smiled at him warmly. "If I had been thinking clearer, I would have known that could happen after posing for you for the last half hour, so if it's anyone's fault, it's mine."

Hermione gave him a warm smile, secretly glad he'd looked at her like a woman. While she had no intention of admitting it and complicating their friendship right as they were thinking of starting a new business, it made her feel better about her body that she had someone who wanted to look at her. It made her feel sexy to know she was desired.

For the rest of the day, Harry holed himself up in his study, working on sketch after sketch. Hermione came in to make sure he got some lunch and afternoon tea but otherwise left him to it.

By the end of the week, Harry had sent Hermione out to get a variety of magazines, ranging from current fashions to some adult magazines in order to make sure his designs would look good on other body types as well. Hermione had done it all without protest, though the look on her face when he asked for the latter said it all for her.

Thankfully for Harry's sake, he didn't need to get any more pictures for a while and Hermione thawed again by the weekend. In thanks, he took her to see a play, whatever one she wanted, he'd told her. She chose to see Cats, daring him to say a thing. It was tough but he survived.

At the end of the evening, she took his arm and walked with him around town, trusting to his wand and his reflexes to keep them safe, her own in her purse just in case. After a nice walk in the summer air, they grabbed a coffee before heading home, ducking into a public toilet and Apparating from there.

That week saw a new dimension to their relationship. They were still each other's best friend, practically their only friend after their decision to leave the wizarding world. Now, however, Hermione would sometimes model clothing for Harry, or even pose nearly nude for him, in order to let him get a better idea of how this or that would look on her. As a result, one Harry was grateful for, was that he no longer reacted to her body in that way despite the temptations on offer.

She would always protest that she wasn't good enough for professional modelling but Harry noticed that she smiled any time he suggested or implied she was pretty enough. However, the idea of making his own clothes, seeing pretty women wearing his creations and feeling comfortable while still looking good, was one that soaked up all his time.

A month after the idea, Harry thought he was ready. He had found someone to teach him to sew, picking up the skill with an ease that had the woman green with envy then demanding to know if he was playing a joke on her. After assuring her that he wasn't and hadn't already had the skill, he continued to improve at a rapid pace until he was now able to create the garments that had haunted his dreams of late.

Naturally, the first to try on one of his garments was Hermione. Not only was she the only model available, he already had all her measurements, right down to the skin, but she was also eager to find out if this fashion thing had any chance whatsoever. And Harry had been downright secretive about just what he was going to create, keeping her in suspense!

Harry came out of the workroom they had created for their foray into fashion and Hermione's breath caught. It was gorgeous!

"- so do you like it?" Harry had been talking for over a minute while Hermione just stood there, admiring it. He'd been getting nervous when she didn't respond and jumped when her right hand struck like lightning, darting out and gently taking the bra from him then dashing into her room.

"Hermione?"

The young woman in question had no thought in her head beyond getting it on. A minute and three popped buttons on her shirt later, she had succeeded. "Ahh" she moaned. It was, for lack of a better term, perfect. It seemed to weigh nothing at all but it lifted and supported her just how she had always wanted.

"Are you okay in there?"

"Yes!" Hermione walked out, grabbed Harry and hugged him tight. "Thank you! It's wonderful, magical..." She trailed off. "Harry, is there magic in this?"

Harry had trouble responding as the hug was doing awful things to his control.

Eventually, Hermione pulled away, thinking she'd imagined Harry's extra appreciation for her hug, and let him think again.

"Yes, there may be a little involved. I worked out a way to infuse a slight touch of the levitation charms into the cups which let me reduce the amount of support needed. I'm pretty sure I can apply it to a number of garments at once, too, so it should be something I can still handle once sales volumes pick up."

"And won't you get noticed for all the magic use?"

"Well, I was thinking that a combination of a Notice-Me-Not and the Somebody Else's Problem charm you created during the hunt would be a good idea generally. Combined, I think it would make it hard for any wizard or witch to notice our location and if they do, they don't care. I could sneak into the Ministry under my cloak to apply the charms in the magic detection grid, too."

"What about the magic on the bras themselves?"

"That was my other discovery. I can cast a low-powered SEP on the bras easily enough. All I have to do is make the SEP cover the other magic used. A hundred at once isn't much of a drain and the charms last about as long as the bras will."

"How can you be sure they'll work?"

"Well, you didn't care about the stack of bras by your room, did you?"

"No, they were- Oh!"

"Exactly. I figure if you didn't see through that SEP charm when you invented the spell, then no one else will see through the more subtle one on the bras we sell." Harry gave her that grin she'd missed. "There isn't enough active magic involved to trip even the most sensitive of the Ministry's detectors once they've been enchanted and you can attest to how much it helps."

"What about the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts?"

"What about it? We aren't misusing them, we're improving them. We're harming no one. Plus, they owe me. After everything they put us through, I don't much care for their laws or attitudes. If they want to make an issue of it all, let them."

Hermione wanted to protest but honesty compelled her to admit he had a good point. Now that they were away from the wizarding world, she could see how much magic was corrupting them. If you had political or magical power, you could do anything without real opposition. People would make excuses for whatever you did.

"Alright, Harry. Let's see what we can do."

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

They spent the next couple of weeks investigating options for production and distribution but both were well aware that they would need to get a reputation in the fashion world to get anywhere.

Harry and Hermione shot a few ideas at each other but in the end, Harry decided to use his Gryffindor side, charging in and adapting to whatever happened next. And so he dropped in with her on Alessandro Cardillo, one of the kingmakers in the business.

"What? How did you get in here?"

"I just walked in. I asked if you were in and your receptionist said yes. Anyway, take a look at these." Harry waved his hand, incidentally activating a limited SEP field making the man ignore the blatant hole in his security.

"You want me to look at your designs? Young man, I don't know who you are-"

"I'm Harry Potter, owner of Fantastic Fashions." Harry shook the man's hand while Hermione gave him her prettiest smile.

"-but I get hundreds of people a year all wanting me to back them. Just what makes you think I'm going to risk my reputation on you?" Somehow, Alessandro was starting to feel more at ease with the strangers.

"I'm just that good. Here." And Harry opened his briefcase, laying out half a dozen of his best, personally chosen by Hermione, for the man's inspection.

Again, Alessandro was never sure why, but he felt compelled to give them an honest evaluation. "Hmmph. Decent, i suppose, in looks, but they're obviously too flimsy to support a woman of that size."

"On the contrary, I can treat the fabric to do just that for a woman of any size. Call in any one of your models to try it out." Harry gave his most charming smile, aided by the Unctuous Unction that had been added to the nearly invisible gloves he wore, and the man finally folded.

"Alright. I'm not sure why but I feel like I can trust you. Elise!"

A tall, beautiful woman walked in so gracefully that Hermione was immediately jealous. Not only that, she had the kind of breasts that women would kill for, or at least maim.

"Try these on and tell me what you think."

"Yes, Alessandro." Elise picked them up and walked out again with hips swaying, giving Hermione another reason to be jealous of her looks. Harry, for his part, didn't even look her way, focussed entirely on their deal.

The man picked up each of the other bras and examined them while they waited for Elise's return.

Harry and Hermione waited tensely until they heard a girlish squeal. Elise came rushing back into the room wearing the new bra.

"Oh, Alessandro, these are fantastic! I have never worn one that supports so well." Elise switched to talking in rapid-fire Italian to her boss, losing Harry after the first few words, but her expression told the story for her. She was hooked.

"Alright, Elise, peace!" Alessandro finally ordered. "Yes, I will ask him. Now go, go!"

Elise turned to Harry. "Please, sir, may I keep this one?"

Harry smiled. "Of course, Elise."

Once the no-longer calm and reserved young woman was out of the room, Alessandro turned to his surprise guests with wonder.

"You have done something truly amazing, more than you can know. Elise never models for new talent in the business. Not even when I have begged and pleaded! And yet, she was asking to do so for you, Mr Potter, for free. I do not know what kind of spell you have put her under, but it is a wonder and no mistake."

Hermione hid her wince at the man's wording but Harry was ready. "It is all down to our product, Alessandro. Shall we get down to details? With your endorsement and support, I believe we can really go places with this."

The kingmaker nodded, rubbing his hands as he contemplated the praise and the money that would be heading his way. Where had this young Harry Potter been all his life? Such a handsome man, too.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Six weeks later, Hermione was laughing her ass off. Harry glared at her until she finally stopped and caught her breath.

"It's easy for you, Miss Granger." Harry told her. "You aren't the one they're making all these rumours about!"

"Oh, calm down, Harry. I'm sorry for laughing but really, where do they get the idea?!"

"I have no idea." Harry bit out. "All I do is treat the models as the young professionals they are, or want to be, and suddenly they think I'm gay! I want to get my product out to the world but they bat their eyelashes at me or flip their bloody hair all the time instead of getting on with the job."

Hermione cracked a giggle. "Oh, now I see."

"You do, do you? Would you mind explaining it to me?"

"Only you, Harry." Hermione smiled, shaking her head. "They're flirting with you. Pretty blatantly, I might add, if you noticed those things, but you just said you ignored them. Not you rejected them, but ignored the advances, like the girls could never be what you wanted so you were letting them down gently."

"But- but...!"

"Yes, I know, Harry, and you know, now, what they were doing. But you can see why they got that idea, can't you? Rather than you being that clueless, which in their experience no one could be, or them not being pretty enough for you, you must bat for the other team."

"Maybe if I accept one of their offers." Harry pondered.

"Oh, no! If you do that, they'll lose respect for you. You'll be just another horny guy trying to get into their panties. Besides, it'd be clear favoritism and all the other models will wonder what she had that they didn't. You'll get all the catfights and jealousy that you hated back at school."

"Mhm, wait, catfights?" Harry grinned.

"Oh, never you mind, buster." Hermione giggled. "Besides, you bat for the other side, don't you? All those girls would be wasted on you."

He growled and got up to chase the naughty witch around their London flat. Business was booming but it seemed life hadn't given up having its fun with Harry Potter.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Six months on from his brainwave and Harry Potter was busier than he had ever been in his life. There just didn't seem to be enough hours in the day and even the Time Turner Hermione had used wouldn't have solved the matter.

Hermione had slotted naturally into the position of his PA, as it turned out. She had been doing something of that nature for him for the better part of a decade so it wasn't a big change on her part. The only change was on Harry's end. To Hermione's surprise, he followed her instructions and reminders almost perfectly, attending meetings, making connections and expanding their business better than she could have hoped.

It wasn't all good news, however. While business was great, the pair had discovered well and truly something that all new business owners do. Time was a commodity that they had to invest into their business. Any moment taken from business was a moment wasted, setting them back.

The stress was starting to get to the young pair as they hadn't taken a night off, much less a day or a weekend, in months and it was starting to show.

"No! You do not need to go over there and teach that designer a lesson in manners, Harry! All he did was say that I looked nice, for Merlin's sake."

Harry's shoulders were hunched as he fought with the desire to go around and beat up the guy. Hermione was _his_ PA, _his_ best friend, damn it, and he wouldn't stand for anyone to try poaching her. Intellectually, he knew she was right but with everything going on, and their second big show nearly on them, it was hard for him to keep his emotions under control. Maybe if Snape hadn't been such a bastard, actually taught him Occlumency like he had said he was doing, Harry would have been able to handle things. Instead, the greasy git had delighted in destroying Harry's emotional control ever since he started at Hogwarts and only intensified it during the Remedial Potions classes, then blaming Harry for his failure to learn.

Idly, Harry considered studying necromancy just to bring Snape back to life and torture him then dismissed the idea. Hermione would never let him get away with that. Spoilsport.

"Are you listening to me, Harry Potter?"

"Huh? Sorry, Hermione. Just thinking about Snape."

"No raising the dead. Are we clear?"

"Yes! Merlin, I need a break. I think we both could use one. How about we take tonight off and go out somewhere?"

"Where, Harry? Where could we go on such short notice?"

"There's that nice Indian place. I'm sure we could get in there and they do a mean curry."

Hermione struggled with herself. On the one hand, they did need to go over the final selection for the show but on the other, she'd be lying if she said she didn't need time off, too. "Alright, Harry. Call them up."

"Weren't you my PA, not the other way around?" Harry teased as he went for the phone. Hermione stuck out her tongue at him,

Over dinner, Harry brought up the subject again that he'd often wondered.

"Why don't you ever model any of these clothes, Hermione? I know you love to wear them." And she did, she was wearing an outfit right then made entirely of clothes he had created.

"No, Harry. I won't do it."

"I know, Hermione. And I'm not trying to push you into it but I don't know why you don't want to. I've seen the looks of longing you've given some of the models and I know you'd look great up there."

"Oh, stop it, Harry. You don't have to flatter me." Hermione interjected, playing with her food.

"I'm not, Hermione. You've grown into a beautiful woman."

"Please, Harry. I'm nothing like those girls."

"Hermione, don't you trust me?"

"I do, Harry, but..." Hermione trailed off. She knew she wasn't pretty enough and that was that. "Oh, you're sweet, Harry, but leave it be. Please?"

"Ok. But if you ever change your mind, I know you'd be brilliant at it."

"Whether I would or not, Harry, I can't. I'm far too busy as _your_ PA, anyway."

Harry let the matter drop, talking about the wine instead and Hermione relaxed. The night ended with the pair stumbling inside, both a little drunk, and falling asleep in Harry's bed. In the morning, they decided to ignore where Hermione had ended up and got on with their work, more efficiently than before their break.

As much as Harry wanted to, he knew Hermione would complain about him prying if he asked.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Over the next year, Fantastic Fashions became _the_ big name on everyone's lips in the industry. While they were still small, Harry and Hermione being very cautious about who they hired on, their undergarments were the talks of models from London to Paris to New York.

Their fashion shows received rave reviews and their lines sold out as soon as they were announced. Harry still refused to sell more than a thousand at a time of any one product, telling Hermione he wanted to get everything just right before he went to mass production, but word of mouth allowed them to keep their prices sky high.

Finally, Hermione sat on Harry and extracted a promise that their next line would be the final test before they went big. She put together their biggest show yet, smug with her success in convincing the stubborn wizard.

"Did you hear?" Hermione was passing by the models as they gossiped on the day.

"No." A second model replied.

"I hear he was seen with Elton John."

"No! Really?"

"Yes, I heard from a friend of a friend who swears she saw the couple talking on the West End."

"I always knew he was that way." A third chipped in. "No way he could be straight and we wouldn't hear about it."

Hermione stopped and went back to the gossiping girls. "For your information, Harry Potter is definitely not gay."

The girls dismissed her assertion. "As if. He's never made so much as a pass at any of us girls or accepted an offer for a bit of private modelling. Besides, he makes you feel so safe when you're around him, no matter what you're wearing, and I've never caught him eyeing me or any of us like a piece of meat."

"He's just a gentleman like that." Hermione told them.

They turned their back and went to their conversation and Hermione had to leave them to it. She was already running late thanks to them.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Harry gave up trying to fight the rumours about his sexuality. While the girls all seemed to believe it, the guys knew better, all except for a couple of hopeful young men. Thankfully, they accepted his rejection with good grace and that was the end of that, Harry hoped.

Hermione had been right about making the transition to the big time, of course. By now, Harry would have been very surprised if she hadn't been. Early on, they'd both made mistakes but they were intelligent and determined to succeed, learning the lessons from each time.

Now, five years after leaving the wizards to their own devices, Harry Potter was a household name in the Muggle world. Hermione's spellwork had stood up to the challenge of his new fame, separating the Wizarding World's "Boy-Who-Lived" from Harry Potter. That and owl redirection spells on his watch ensured he was free from their interference.

Unless, of course, someone who knew him managed to find him.

Ministry workers had gone past posters for his company, even ones with his face prominently displayed, hundreds and thousands of times without twigging to the connection between their Harry Potter and the new fashion label.

The first anyone in their world knew anything of it was when one Lavender Brown, ex Weasley, stumbled through the exit to the Leaky Cauldron onto Charing Cross Road, a little tipsy and cursing her high heels. She had tried out the stiletto heels as part of her rebellion against a family that would condemn her to be Molly Weasley mark 2, as if cooking, cleaning and picking up after Ron Weasley, the only remaining member of the Golden Trio and Ministry puppet, was the only role in life she could aspire to. Although she had tried to make the marriage work, Ron never had and now she was glad they'd never had kids in their two years together.

Well, the divorce was finally official and the newly single witch was experimenting with Muggle things as part of her protest of Molly Weasley's expectations. Besides, it was rumoured that Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the best of her generation, had gone Muggle after Hogwarts. Of course, it was also rumoured that they'd gone to Avalon, discovered Atlantis, committed suicide in a lovers' pact and any number of things.

Lavender spied a pub and made her way unsteadily towards it, getting more used to the heels as her magic reacted to her intent to help her adjust, and stopped when something caught her eye. Turning around, she tried to work out what it was when she saw the poster and gasped. "It's him!"

A passing young woman looked at where she was pointing then back at the slightly drunk twenty-something. "Of course it's Harry Potter. Who else would he be?" Shaking her head, the stranger walked on.

Lavender went into the pub, her mind spinning in circles as she ordered a variety of the new drinks, almost ending her night in the gutter before she remembered she was a witch and could Apparate. While it could have been disastrous, she was just aware enough to remember to go somewhere out of sight before Apparating out and feeling the many drinks sloshing inside her had her Deliberating on her movement even more than when she took her test.

In the morning, Lavender groaned when the sunlight poked in her eyes, getting up slowly and holding her aching head. She stumbled into the kitchen, got a glass of water and a bezoar down, banishing her hangover.

She didn't really remember much after getting to the Muggle pub apart from liking the taste of the drinks, and even more once her tastebuds went numb, but she did remember seeing Harry's picture somewhere. After recovering from her night out, including making a breakfast from habit big enough for six, or her and Ron, Lavender tried to retrace her steps. It was easier than she thought to find the picture of her old classmate, plastered twenty foot high on the side of a building.

"What the f-?" Lavender had no idea how they had all missed it but their missing hero, the Man Who Conquered, obviously wasn't all that missing. Although he had filled out in all the right ways, Lavender considered as she looked at the unmoving picture.

At the bottom of the poster, there was a number she could call, but first, to Gringott's. She didn't have any more Muggle money on her and she remembered she would need some to use a public phone.

By midday, Lavender was getting frustrated. She had read in the papers that Fantastic Fashions, Harry's company, was supposedly always looking for new models and Lavender was certainly aware that she could still turn heads in the wizarding world even when she wasn't wanting to be stared at. Only, she didn't know how to get through to Harry to talk to him!

She had tried calling a dozen different numbers by now and was still no closer to talking to him. She couldn't leave a return number and Merlin knew she couldn't send him an owl. Just about everyone had tried in the five years since Harry had disappeared, taking his vaults with him. So what was she to do?

Eventually, Lavender decided to write him a letter the Muggle way. She noted down the address in one of the articles and sent off her letter to _Harry Potter c/o Fantastic Fashions_, hoping that eventually it would get through.

The now disillusioned witch had heard how hard it could be to contact heads of big businesses, though maybe that was the Muggles in the pub last night complaining, and feared Harry had gone Muggle too much to care about anyone in the wizarding world.

A week later, going through help wanted ads in her newly rented flat, Lavender got an owl from old Tom at the Leaky Cauldron. A letter had arrived for her there and could she come pick it up? She sure could! Lavender turned on the spot, Apparating excitedly to her destination.

"Hello, Tom."

"Hello, Mrs We- Miss Brown, letter here, for you."

"Thanks, Tom!" Lavender spotted immediately the stylized overlapping F's on the letter, the same as on Harry's company, and barely contained her excitement.

"That'll be a Sickle, ten."

Lavender dug out the change and gave Tom two Sickles. "Keep the change!"

"Good news?" Tom asked with a smile for the pretty young thing.

"I think so! I might've finally tracked down an old friend." Despite wanting to tell everyone that she had found _the_ Harry Potter, Lavender managed to keep from spilling the secret. First, she wanted to find out what he had said!

The now bubbly young woman headed home, sitting at her lone table and opened the letter.

"_Dear Miss Brown_," she read out loud to herself.

As she read the letter, a variety of expressions crossed her face. Excitement, disappointment, anger, sadness and finally a bittersweet happiness. Despite her initial hopes, Harry hadn't actually read her letter after all, as it had ended up dumped on the pile of letters sent by hopeful young women and girls across Great Britain wanting to work for the exclusive company, both as models and designers. It had been looked at by one of Harry's staff who had noted her name and passed it up the chain until it reached Harry's personal assistant, some nameless man, Lavender imagined, who had turned down her application to model for them. Apparently she was expected to include photos and references for previous modelling jobs, things Lavender couldn't provide for various reasons.

However, and the thing that gave her a slight measure of happiness over the whole affair, the personal assistant was willing to meet with her to talk about her application. Lavender was afraid he'd want to get into her pants as his price for letting her meet Harry. Well, if it came to that, and he wasn't totally disgusting like Crabbe and Goyle had been, then she might consider it. As much as she might like things to be otherwise, she was getting desperate for money and the Ministry of Magic was being its usual arthritic self in helping her get established on the Muggle side of the divide.

On Monday morning, Lavender got dressed in her very best clothes, using her wand to subtly alter the clothes to emphasize her assets for the coming meeting. She also took extra care with every other aspect of her appearance, putting on a fake smile at the mirror though her stomach was filled with butterflies.

The young witch took a cab with some of the last of her money to the cafe and stopped dead as she got a look at a hairstyle she hadn't seen in five years. It couldn't be her! And what would she be doing in fashion? She had never had any interest in it at school.

Lavender asked for the table that had been reserved and was directed to it, finding that it was the woman with the bushy hair.

"Hello?"

Hermione turned her head. "Hi, Lavender. Please, take a seat."

Lavender did so numbly. "I never thought it would be you."

"Why not?" Hermione asked confused.

"They didn't give me a name, just some bit about Harry's PA." Lav shrugged helplessly at Hermione's look.

Hermione muttered some unkind things about her lazy staff then took a deep breath, visibly putting it out of her mind. "Well, I'm here now and yes, I am Harry's personal assistant." She gave a giggle before adding. "Can you think of anyone who has more experience?"

Lavender shook her head quickly, her carefully styled hair escaping confinement. "No! Sorry, I'm just really nervous."

"Why on Earth would you be? It's just me. We shared a dorm for six years."

"Yeah, but you're now really important! And I really need this job. Ever since I left Ron, I haven't been able to get any work."

"You left Ron? Oh, I didn't even know you were married."

"Yeah, biggest mistake we ever made. Well, except for that time Ron ran into an Acromantula nest, he reckons that was his biggest mistake. Hard to blame him what with him being afraid of even normal spiders."

Hermione nodded, keeping her feelings about Ron betraying them on the hunt to herself.

"Anyway, I've been trying to find work but er, our old school, it didn't exactly prepare us for the job market."

"Isn't that the truth! It's one reason we got into fashion. As long as you can get your first big break, you can go a lot further than in other fields where they care more about your qualifications."

"So that's why!"

"Mhm, though it can be a lot of fun."

Lavender went to say "I told you so." then thought better of it. She was trying to get on Hermione's good side, after all.

"So do you have an opening for an old friend?" Lavender tried instead.

"No. We don't operate that way." Hermione told her firmly. "No jobs based on who you know. We select people who can do the jobs we hire them for."

Lavender tried not to let it show how badly that hurt. She _needed_ this.

"However, we _may_ have a job for a young woman with an eye for fashion."

Lavender perked up so much Hermione giggled, _giggled_ at her!

"Let's see what you can do, shall we?" Hermione found herself with an armful of ecstatic young witch and gently extricated herself, waiting until her former roommate had taken her seat again before calling over the waiter and ordering some lunch.

By the end of the day, she had put Lavender through her paces, finding that the other woman had no skill but some raw talent for modelling, picking up some of the skills like magic. She also had a good eye for which designs would go best with each model. Hermione was confident that Lavender would find her niche quickly enough.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Hermione hated being right. Well, not really. She just hated being right in this particular case. It had been three months after they had taken on Lavender. At first it was only at minimum wage (which was still more than enough for a witch using magic to stretch her budget) while they decided if they were going to keep her. Already, however, the woman was already becoming a hit on the catwalk.

Once you got her out of the witch's robes and lifestyle, and got her into the modern world, Lavender blossomed into a drop dead gorgeous woman. While she was a little heavier than most models, that had only added to her fan base, and modern cosmetics aided by a touch of magic proved a devastating combination.

This would have been wonderful news, only with Lavender spending time with her and Harry, she worried that this was the one woman who could turn his head, the one who would crack through his barriers at last. And while five years ago she would have cheered Lavender on if she had got into Harry's pants and cheered him up, Hermione couldn't do so any longer. She was now face to face with the fact that she wanted Harry for herself.

Harry came home after a long day of meetings with people from American distribution outlets. The minute he opened the door after making his way through their wards, he knew something was different, off. He breathed in deep and his eyes shot open.

Making his way to the dining room, he saw the table was set for two, candles lit and a bottle of his favourite red cooling in a bucket to the side. He set his briefcase down. "Hermione?" Harry called out.

"In here!"

Harry followed the voice to the door to the bathroom.

"You're home earlier than I expected." Hermione told him with a little quaver in her voice.

"Yeah, I was able to get the deal we wanted with less trouble than we anticipated. They only put up a token resistance before about falling over themselves to agree to our terms. We didn't even have to concede a thing!"

"That's excellent, Harry. I'll be out in a minute. Why don't you wait in the lounge?"

"Ok."

Harry poured himself a lemonade then sat down to wait. He'd barely got comfortable when Hermione came sauntering out, making him glad he didn't have any of his drink in his mouth. "Wow!"

"Oh, this old thing?" Hermione purred. "Do you like it?"

Harry's eyes roamed up and down the periwinkle blue dress Hermione was wearing. This wasn't her dress for the Yule Ball, all floaty and trying to show a girl turning into a young woman. No, this dress was perfectly tailored, and he recognised his staff's work, to the task of displaying a beautiful young woman confident in her body and her sexuality. In his opinion, it should rank right up there with the Little Black Dress as a weapon of seduction. Sparkling with pale sapphires and diamonds, concealing little but hinting at so much more, it was a shot straight to his libido. Swallowing his saliva hastily, he nodded. "Very much, Hermione."

Hermione then did a little spin for him, showing off just how much she had filled out in all the right places since that morning on the train a decade before. She leaned over, perfectly aware of where he was looking, and pulled him to his feet. "I hope you're hungry, Harry. I've got plans for us tonight."

"Have you written a list of things for me to do?" Harry asked, chancing her sense of humour.

"Oh, yes, Harry. And you are going to do it all before you go to sleep, Mister." Hermione warned him in a smoky voice.

Somehow, Harry's smile grew even more at her threat.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Big news like this couldn't stay secret for long, but somehow the pair managed to keep their new relationship under the radar for almost a week. Impressive, given how much gossip there was and how fast it spread in an age of mobile phones and twenty-four hour news cycles.

Thanks to hundreds of fashion magazines worldwide, photos of THE Harry Potter, fashion king, kissing his long-time assistant Hermione Granger splashed across the newsstands. Lavender Brown stared in shock as she passed them on her way into work, making a beeline for the top floor where she found her friends, and bosses, inundated with calls and visitors.

Through the chaos, Harry spotted her and helped her through to the front of the crowd before the three slipped away into his private office, leaving their receptionist to handle the deluge.

"So you and Hermione?" Lavender asked Harry.

Harry gave her a knicker-wetting smile and pulled Hermione to his side. "Yes, us."

"How long?"

"Well, you know that big deal with the Americans? When I got home, Hermione had gone all out, cooking for me and That Dress."

Hermione slapped his shoulder but smiled all the same. "Yes, that dress that you liked so much, you tore it off me."

Lavender's jaw hung open. When her brain rebooted, the first thing she could say was "Wow."

The last thing she expected was for the pair of them to burst out laughing. Seeing her confusion, Hermione explained. "That's just what he said when he saw my dress."

Lavender took Hermione's hands. "I want details, girl. Every thing you can remember."

Hermione was surprised. "Are you actually demanding girl talk from me, Lavender Brown?"

Harry just looked on amused. Since starting their company, he had become immune to the embarrassing nature of those talks, or so he thought. Over the years, hundreds of beautiful women had discussed all sorts of things with him in the room as he looked over the various items of his they would wear.

He was disabused of his supposed immunity within five minutes as he found it was different to be the subject of these alarmingly frank discussions of the men in their lives. Despite his blushing, he stayed in the room and tried to get on with some work while noting the shock and awe on Lavender's face as Hermione animatedly recounted details of their encounters.

"Okay, enough, ladies!" He cried out as Lavender asked how he looked mid-orgasm. "There are some things I'd prefer to keep private, Miss Brown." He added in his best intimidating voice. Sadly, the effort was undone by the blush that ran down to his chest and she giggled at him along with Hermione. "Traitor!" Harry hissed at her, then joined in on the laughter.

Over the next month, a dozen models a day made passes at Harry, now that they knew he was straight, and Hermione made sure to claim him every night. Despite Harry's pleas that Hermione was woman enough for his needs, she kept mock threatening to let Lavender join them. Hermione had talked enough with the blonde model to know she had desires of the green-eyed wizard variety. Hermione, however, had no intention of loaning out her Harry to anyone now that she had finally got him, instead teasing him into proving his desires for her again.

On Halloween that year, Harry discovered that the date wasn't all bad. Hermione got on one knee and proposed to him, then jumped into his arms when he said yes. They were never going to get away with the kind of small wedding Harry would have preferred but in the end he was happy with what he got.

Hermione looked more radiant than ever as she walked up to be married to Harry Potter, with Lavender behind her looking only slightly less beautiful in his eyes as she helped out as Hermione's chief bridesmaid.

While the Ministry tried to track him down, neither they nor Ron ever managed it, and all because they couldn't separate in their minds Harry Potter and their mythical symbol of the Boy Who Lived. In their minds, he couldn't be one without the other and Hermione's spells remained ruthlessly efficient at protecting Harry's privacy.

Married to a lovely lady, owner of a fashion label known across the world and with a baby on the way soon after their wedding night, Harry Potter could finally say without hint of a lie that he was a happy and lucky man.

* * *

_**Pax Humana: I decided that Cloud Zen's implementation, while fun, was far from his original idea and wanted to write something closer to that. The second entry here is my attempt to follow the original story prompt we were working from. Although I skipped over the Ministry confrontation which was part of that, I didn't think I could work it in without drawing out my story even further. Also, I didn't think it would be a good fit.**_

_**Thanks to Cloud Zen and Daisy Duck, my usual betas, for their standard high quality help.**_

_**If you enjoyed either of these, please review. Also, if you have any suggestions for ideas for us to write for, please pass them along in reviews or PMs.**_


	5. Four Hours with Hermione

_**While working on a longer story, I stumbled on an odd detail. The fictional Ottery St. Catchpoole, where the Burrow is located, is in Devon. According to Google Maps, by taking the A30 out of Exeter to the A303 to the M3 to Kings Cross Station in London is approximately 200 miles and just over 4 hours of driving. Taking three taxis that distance, considering all the other magical means of travel felt ridiculous to me, even before calculating the expense.**_

_**Given that, and needing a break from writing said longer story, I proposed writing a few drabbles exploring this to Pax Humana. These four are the results of our efforts.**_

* * *

A Growing Boy

By: Pax Humana

A four hour ride.

Molly Weasley had braved the telephone in the village post office to order three ordinary taxis to take everyone into London for the ride to Hogwarts. That would have been odd enough, given her at best tolerant attitude to Arthur's obsession with Muggles. What was really weird, though, was that it was an hours long ride from their village in Devon into King's Cross.

Within the first five minutes of the ride, Hermione had pulled out some light reading, just 300 pages or so, and Ron had tried to talk to Harry about the chances for the Cannons to make the League finals. Since the Cannons were firmly in last place and would not only need to win all seven of their last matches, plus the fact that their driver was a Muggle, Harry elbowed Ron to shut him up. Honestly, between the miserable weather and Ron's obsession with his team, Harry was in a right mood.

Being directed to sit in the middle by Molly Weasley because he was the smallest hadn't done anything to improve it, either. Sure, it was true but he was so a growing boy, damn it, and he didn't like being reminded of his lack of vertical inches.

"At least other parts are growing," Harry muttered quietly.

Unfortunately, he forgot that he was far from alone when he said that. While Ron had pulled out his post-breakfast snack of a couple of sandwiches and was dead to the world as he devoured them, Hermione was far more observant and whispered in his ear a question. Surely he couldn't have been talking about 'that' right in front of her?

"What was that, Harry?" She was blushing slightly but Harry couldn't work out why.

He shrugged. Gryffindors forward and all of that rot.

"I said, at least other bits are growing, even if I'm not growing tall as fast as some." Harry darted a quick glare at Ron who had just spilled devilled egg on Harry's shirt.

"How can you talk about it so openly?" Hermione's blush grew as he seemed to confirm her earlier suspicions.

"It's not like I'm ashamed of it, Hermione." Really, why should he care how big his feet got? Anyone could see them if they wanted, anyway.

"Quiet, Harry." Hermione hissed at him and turned back to her book, blush now almost Weasley red.

The clueless boy just sighed and opened up his book on classical duelling. Despite the out of place copy of Michelangelo's drawing of the human body on the cover, it was all about magical combat. The author advised doing exercise every day, giving examples of various walks or climbs, in order to prepare the wizard for a possible duel. "A sound body leads to a sound magic" was an oft-repeated phrase but despite the persuasive rather than informative slant, Harry found himself enjoying the content.

It wasn't as good as flying a broom, or even as good as a nice evening in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room, but Harry did enjoy reading for pleasure. At least, when he got to choose which books he read, he did.

Ron had taken one look at both his friends reading and gave up, letting his head fall back against the seat and falling asleep without a problem.

An hour later, Harry had just finished a chapter on duelling etiquette, liberally sprinkled with the author exhorting him to exercise despite the irrelevance, when Hermione dug an elbow into his ribs.

"What?"

"How big?"

"Hmm?"

"How big? You said your- your bits are growing and I was curious." Hermione's blush was even more intense as she whispered the question to him, trailing off even quieter at the end as she admitted to her shameful curiosity. All sorts of figures were going through her head, ever since he had so casually thrown that out there, and despite her best efforts, she had to know.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't measure that often but certainly bigger than Ron's. I couldn't believe he's that small down there." Indeed, it had confused Harry how his redheaded friend managed to stay upright with feet that were smaller than his sister's. Despite the figurative big feet Ron had at times, pushing into things that weren't really his business, like the Firebolt, his actual feet seemed more like Harry's had been before starting Hogwarts.

"Just bigger than Ron's?" Hermione asked in an odd tone though Harry didn't pick up on it in his distraction.

"Bigger than the other guys in the dorm or on the team, too, come to that. I mean, I understand why Malfoy's so small, I guess, thanks to what Dobby said." After all, Dobby had told Harry that Draco was carried everywhere rather than walking, but what about the other wizards who weren't that rich? It was weird. Maybe small feet were a Pureblood thing? He'd mention the idea to Hermione later, see if she thought it was worth doing research, then put it out of his mind.

Hermione's eyes widened and for a moment, she understood _exactly_ how Lavender felt when she got some juicy gossip and wanted to share it. She wasn't sure she wanted to know what Dobby had told Harry about Malfoy, let alone why, feeling a little ill at the thought of Malfoy's bits, but the information about not just Harry but the Gryffindor Quidditch team and the other new Fourth Year students would be worth its weight in gold. The other girls might finally listen to her with respect!

Harry went back to his book, Ron kept on snoring, the driver kept his radio up loud to drown out the snoring, and Hermione Granger, bibliophile and witch, was reduced to staring at nothing while waiting for her brain to stop buzzing.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~~

By the end of the trip, Harry was confused but thankfully no longer pissed off. Hermione had passed over a sock when Ron's snoring got too bad and Harry had got the chance to try out the old expression on his best mate.

While everyone was surprised that literally putting a sock in it hadn't woken Ron, they were grateful for the peace and quiet and Hermione drew him into a conversation. They talked about the book he was reading, why it had the picture of a naked man and woman on the cover, which Harry didn't know and told her so, and about their plans for the year, Harry idly mentioned wanting to have a fun year with new excitement rather than the old one, hopefully implying their life and death adventures at Hogwarts without mentioning them in front of the Muggle driver.

Hermione, however, had her mind in the gutter from trying to subtly find out if Harry's boasts were true and immediately pictured Harry doing this and that with a pretty girl. She was shocked at herself when she found herself rubbing against Harry as he showed her his book and flirting heavily. While Harry hadn't reacted, he hadn't rejected her unconscious advances and she gave her messy-haired friend an extra smile.

Harry followed her out of the cab, blinking owlishly when Hermione had swayed her hips just for him. Surely he had to be dreaming. She'd never done that before.

"Harry!" The voice of one of the twins snapped him out of it and the trio headed over to Fred and George as the drivers got their luggage out and onto the footpath.

"How was the trip? Not too boring, being cooped up with Hermione? She must have read the whole way."

"No, she was great. It was Ron who decided to grab an extra nap but he still has some growing to do." Harry ribbed the ginger, grinning.

"Sure do! Anyone got some food?"

Hermione ignored Ron's ramblings on the subject of food now that he'd confirmed Harry's information. After the way she'd hurt Harry earlier over a silly broom, Hermione finally had the perfect way to make it up to him and she got out a notebook and pen to write a list of things to do that year.

Right at the top was telling her dorm mates the news. Or should she keep this quiet and help Harry have some new excitement herself? What was a best friend to do?

* * *

Lavender

By: Pax Humana

The scent of old books and lavender was driving him mad.

Harry, Hermione and Ron had been bundled into the back of a cab for a ride from Ottery St. Catchpole in Devon to King's Cross station in the middle of London. Pretty quickly after they got in, Ron decided to catch up on some sleep lost to his mother's early morning wake up yelling. With the redhead facing away from them and laying mostly on his side, he was surprisingly snore-free, something Harry especially was grateful for, but now, he was bored and the scent was making it worse.

Unfortunately, Harry couldn't mention it because the witch to his left was the source and he didn't want to start an argument over a misunderstanding, which left Harry bored, distracted and looking for something, anything, to talk about. Since the cab had a divider up between the driver and passengers, he couldn't talk to the old man to ease his boredom and he looked around, trying to think of something to discuss with his best female friend instead.

"Why a cab?" Harry blurted out, turning to face her.

"Hmm?" Hermione looked up from her book of 'light reading'.

"Why did Mrs Weasley book cabs for us to get to King's Cross?"

"She couldn't get a car that would fit us all, Harry. You heard what she said." Hermione replied, giving him a look to remind him of the cabbie.

"He can't hear us, Hermione, and he wouldn't care about it anyway. He's already getting paid -" Harry leaned forward to see. "He's already getting paid over forty quid for this fare and we've got ages to go yet."

"Let me see. Wow."

"So how's she going to afford it?" Harry asked quietly, mindful of their sleeping friend's sensibility.

"Harry?"

"She was having trouble getting new school books so why did she choose such a costly way of getting to London. Surely there were other ways that were cheaper. Quicker, too, for that matter. We're going to be here for hours yet, unable to get up and stretch. Think of Crookshanks in his cat carrier."

Hermione swallowed what she was about to say and actually thought of what Harry was telling her.

She knew there was a Floo in the Burrow, of course, they'd seen Mr Diggory use it just that morning, though that was to talk, not travel. She also knew there were Floos available in Diagon Alley such as the Leaky Cauldron, which would have put them in London itself. Floo powder wasn't free but a Knut or two's worth of powder would have taken the whole group most of the way, cutting off nearly two hundred miles from their trip.

If money was so tight that they couldn't spend any on new dress robes for Ron or a dozen other things for their kids, how did they have over, she ran a quick estimate, over 150 Galleons to waste on this? Hermione had a worry that it had something to do with Harry.

Then again, most things in their world had something to do with Harry Potter.

"I don't know, Harry. You're right, plenty of cheaper ways to get us all in there. We could have taken the train or bus, or..." She trailed off, glancing at the cabbie.

"Do you think it's like the lottery winnings?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they won the prize in the newspaper, remember. What did they do?"

"They went on holiday."

"Yeah, to Egypt. The whole family."

"They missed Bill."

"For six whole weeks? Ron mentioned in his letter that they blew most of their winnings on the trip. I'm sure there were better uses of the money than that, like fixing up the Burrow. "

Hermione nodded. While getting to see their eldest was good, it wasn't necessary to stay that long and it certainly wasn't free. It looked like the Weasley family's inability to save was just that.

"I think you were right, two years ago."

"Of course I was right, Harry." Hermione shook her head, smiling, as she cast her mind back. "But right about what, exactly?"

"A lot of wizards don't have any common sense."

Harry was startled when Hermione snorted loudly. He checked but Ron was still dead to the world and glared briefly at her for scaring him like that.

"It took you this long to work that out?"

"Well, no."

Hermione nodded and then looked seriously at him. "So you were right about the cabs. You knew that when you brought it up, Harry. What aren't you saying?"

"What do you mean?"

"You only brought it up to have something to talk about, which means you're hiding something, Harry James Potter."

Harry sighed. He'd hoped to keep her distracted as well as himself but now that she reminded him. "I like the smell of lavender."

"Lavender Brown?!"

Seeing the warning signs, Harry hastily shook his head. "No, not her. The flower!"

"Ok, the flower. So what does that have to do with anything?"

"I've had the smell of that and old books filling my head since we got in the cab. It was driving me crazy." Harry confessed.

"I can't smell anything of the sort." Hermione shot a look at Ron whose olfactory presence was drowning out the more subtle scents Harry was talking about.

"Oh, I long since learned to ignore it, but I can't ignore this one."

"Are you saying you hate the smell of old books and lavender." Hermione asked in a careful tone Harry knew well.

"Merlin, no. The opposite." Harry said mournfully. He was afraid Hermione would hit him or worse, hate him.

"Oh? Oh." Hermione gave him a little smile and kissed his cheek, deciding to give him a reward later for the complement. "Thank you, Harry, but we'll talk about that later. Why don't you bring your cloak downstairs after dinner?"

Harry looked up and searched her face, finding no hint of condemnation.

"Ok."

This cab ride wasn't such a bad idea after all. Maybe Mrs Weasley would let him pay her back for her help.

* * *

Squeezed in the Back

By: Cloud Zen

For the past two hours, Harry Potter had been squeezed between his best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, in the back of a muggle taxi. Two hours of his uncomfortable squirming, Hermione's occasional shifting, and, worst of all, Ron's snoring as he slept the ride away.

Two hours in. Two hours to go. Harry couldn't wait for the ride to end.

"Why did Mrs Weasley think this was a good idea?" Harry finally asked.

Hermione looked up from her book. "What do you mean?"

"They live in Devon. It's a four hour drive to London from there. Add in the fact that we're taking three taxis just to fit everybody, it's got to cost them a fortune. I didn't even know taxi drivers would take fares this far."

Closing her book, Hermione began to scratch between Crookshanks's ears. "Harry, that's quite enough. If this is how they want to get to Kings Cross, then that's entirely their business. We should be grateful they're paying for our trip there."

Knowing when he was losing an argument with Hermione, Harry opted to return to silence. Growing up with the Dursleys had led him to be very aware of how much things cost. Being constantly reminded of how expensive a child he allegedly was resulted in the awareness being burned into his mind.

Going back to staring out the front windscreen, Harry tried to occupy his mind with something other than the absurd expense of the trip. As the southern English countryside droned on, Harry's mind was begging for something else to distract him. They were still, easily over an hour from London.

Shifting in his seat, Harry heard an _eep!_ to his right. Looking down, he realized his hand had found its way into Hermione's lap!

"Sorry!" he exclaimed, pulling his hand back.

Hermione's face was burning with a blush as she squeaked out an answer. "No, it's okay. Don't worry about it. It was an accident."

As luck would have it, Harry's attempt to pull away disturbed Ron. A unholy snore ripped from him as he fell over against Harry. Ron, as big as he was, pushed Harry over with ease. Twisting to avoid crushing Hermione, Harry displaced a now very angry half-kneezle who batted him with surprising strength.

Harry found himself pinned by a hulking, asleep Ron and Crookshanks who thankfully kept his claws retracted as he repeatedly beat on Harry while trying to climb back into his mistress's lap. Pushing against the door, Harry was able to shoulder Ron back upright. Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"Harry?"

Sitting back up he looked over at his bushy-haired friend. "Hm?"

When she remained quiet, Harry took to examining her. As he looked down, he saw her arms crossed in front of her body, squeezing fiercely. Even as Crookshanks tried to reseat himself, Hermione refused to move her arms.

"What's the matter, Hermione?"

Harry continued to press for an answer because the blush on her face had yet to subside. In fact, it only intensified as she slowly pulled her arms away.

Despite trying his best not to embarrass the girl, Harry's eyes widened.

Hermione's blouse was now missing several buttons and Harry had a clear view through the gap created by that change.

"When Ron pushed you over, your glasses got caught," she whispered, hoping to not draw the attention of their driver.

Fighting the urge to panic, Harry whispered back. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean, I mean, Ron pushed me and-" It was undeniable that Harry was now fully aware how feminine one of his best friends was.

However, seeing her shrink in on herself, Harry backpedaled. "I mean, you're very pretty and I didn't mind it, but I still, I mean, they're lovely and, just-" Harry stumbled over his words trying to find some way to make it up to his friend.

Finally deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Harry stopped talking. With his hands in his lap and pointedly looking down, five long minutes of silence passed. To Harry, it felt as if an eternity had come and gone.

He felt Hermione lean against him. Her breath tickled his ear as she placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Thank you for being so sweet," she whispered.

Moments later, Harry found his fingers intertwined with hers, pulled back into her lap. Hermione still had one arm across her body, holding her blouse closed, but the one holding Harry's was gently running her thumb over his. Crookshanks seemed to not mind sharing his mistress's lap with the two hands as he simply melted into a puddle on her lap as only felines could hope to do.

When Harry was sure his heart wouldn't beat its way out of his chest, Harry began to wonder if he could convince the driver to take the scenic route. He wasn't sure if he ever wanted the ride to end.

* * *

The Long Ride

By: Cloud Zen

September first was always hectic for the Weasley family. This year, Mrs Weasley had ordered three Muggle taxis since her husband was unable to acquire Ministry transportation. After wrestling six trunks, three overly excited pets, and eight people into three taxis amidst fireworks going off and other general madness, they departed just after dawn from the Burrow.

For the last half hour, Harry Potter found himself extremely distracted. He and Hermione Granger were in the back of one taxi just passing through Exeter on their way to Kings Cross Station to depart for their fourth year at Hogwarts. The Weasleys were crammed into the two other taxis while Harry and Hermione had been allowed the extra room and comfort of traveling with just the two of them.

Harry found himself watching Hermione as they hit the occasional bounce along the roads.

His best friend was most definitely a girl.

Every time they hid a small bump, Harry's eyes snapped to her chest to see the small jiggle. He had tried to focus on other things, the countryside, the feeling of speed, the simple but nice interior of the taxi, but every bump drew his attention. He kept his glances discreet, looking out of the corner of his vision, doing his best to keep his head facing forwards or at least away from her. However, his eyes were kept focused so far down that he never saw the expression on Hermione's face that his attentions was causing.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Hermione Granger smiled to herself. When Harry had first glanced at her, she was about to ask what he needed. That was, until she realized he was not looking at her face. He was looking at her chest.

She knew Harry was aware of girls. He had a crush on Cho Chang most of the last year but at the moment he wasn't looking at the older Ravenclaw seeker. He was looking as his friend of three years.

And she was flattered.

Once she realized what he was doing, she had opted to observe him for a while. Every bump on the road drew his attention. It was flattering. It was empowering. It was wonderful.

After almost an hour of letting him think he was getting away with secretive looks, Hermione decided to up the ante. She moaned softly as she rolled her shoulders, arching her back slightly, causing her chest to be thrust a touch forward. She watched as his head fought the urge to swivel around to stare at her, having to fight her own giggles. It was so cute how he was obviously trying to be a gentleman.

As she relaxed her choreographed stretch, Hermione caught Harry noticeably dry swallow. She had his undivided attention and would for the next two and a half hours. Hermione almost burst out in a mad cackle at the possibilities flowing through her mind.

She spend the next several minutes occasionally twisting and stretching, giving Harry every excuse she could to stare at her. She even loosened the top two buttons on her blouse. With that, Harry went from being mostly unobtrusive with his glances to mouth hanging open, practically staring with hints of drool forming.

Hermione didn't bother hiding the confident smirk on her face at Harry's situation. She gave a small, throat clearing cough, before she stretch a leg high. She brought it down, crossing it far over her other leg, just far enough so her foot could tease his calf.

~~~oOoOoOo~~~

Harry froze at the contact. Hermione was mindlessly stroking his calf with her foot as she thumbed through a random book. Refusing to move for fear of drawing attention to himself, Harry focused on the London buildings they were slowly creeping past. Unsure whether he wanted to panic or revel at her touch, Harry began mentally reciting every Quidditch foul he could remember while staring out the window.

Finally, after a torturous hour of Harry fighting every impulse to stare at or even reach out and touch Hermione, the caravan finally pulled to a stop outside Kings Cross Station. The group of eight plus two drivers rushed, fighting the wind and rain, to get unloaded.

Drenched, lugging heavy trunks, and carrying very wet and unhappy pets in cages, the Weasley herd made their way into the station followed by Harry, Hermione with their own burdens. Fighting their way through the mass of people, they approached the entrance to Platform 9¾.

When the redheads pushed through the barrier first, Hermione stopped next to Harry. She surprised him, leaning up to whisper in his ear completely unseen by the Weasley family and their hovering matriarch.

"Maybe we can find a compartment for ourselves so we can continue where we left off in the taxi," Hermione whispered huskily. "After the way you would skive off whenever I mention doing a little extra studying, I'm glad I finally got to show you what paying attention gets you. _I_ thought the last four hours were fun. Didn't you?"

Just before pulling away, she gave his ear a little lick and nibble.

Shocked, Harry watched as Hermione pushed her trolley through the barrier. He barely registered the extra sway in her hips but somehow he knew he would not soon forget the sight now burned into his memory.

* * *

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